


Tony Stark Handles His Own Shit

by LeCoeurCommeUnArtichaud



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Assault, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blackmail, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Body Shaving, Bruises, Castration, Chair Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Cock Slapping, Cock Warming, Coercion, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Date Rape, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dildos, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Double Anal Penetration, Drugged Sex, Dry Sex, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemas, Face Slapping, Finger Sucking, Forced Feminization, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Genital Torture, Homophobia, Homophobic James "Bucky" Barnes, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Steve Rogers, Humiliation, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Inflation, Internalized Homophobia, Knifeplay, Knives, Large Cock, Lingerie, M/M, Medical Torture, Mental Breakdown, Military Homophobia, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Multiple Personalities, No Lube, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Violence, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-consensual Exhibitionism, Not James "Bucky" Barnes Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Object Insertion, Orgasm Control, Parent/Child Incest, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage Rape/Non-con, Peter Parker Whump, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Sadism, Sadistic James "Bucky" Barnes, Sadistic Steve Rogers, Saline Infusion, Sexist Language, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Shaving, Sounding, Starker Endgame, Stockholm Syndrome, Teen Peter Parker, The Major Character Death isn't Tony or Peter, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Tony Stark Whump, Torture, Transphobia, Underage Rape/Non-con, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Vacuum Pumping, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Vomiting, Watersports, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, homophobic howard stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeCoeurCommeUnArtichaud/pseuds/LeCoeurCommeUnArtichaud
Summary: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EATStory Summary:Steve looked down at Tony. “You should be glad Bucky killed your parents. Saved them from seeing what a pathetic faggot you turned out to be.”...Steve fished in his pocket, coming up with a quarter. “Heads or tails, Buck.”“Heads,” Bucky said. “Wanna choke another Stark.”...“Body memory,” Bucky said evenly, deadly. “They wiped my mind, but my body remembers. Remembers what it was like having your mom’s neck in my hand. Feeling my fingers tighten around it.”Chapter Summary:Tony just thought he’d discovered a new kink. No reason for it. Kinks needed no reason. What floated one’s boat, simply floated one’s boat. One more thing to consider doing on the occasional, rare, night that he and Steve fucked.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark/Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 90
Kudos: 226





	1. Contempt

**Author's Note:**

> Please note all the tags. 👀 There aren't even tags for some of the evil 😈 that goes on here.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Starts with a little bit of preliminary mindfuckery & rape of Tony at the hands of Steve and Bucky. Goes through two solid weeks of the same and far, _far_ worse. Those two weeks are agreed to be endured by Tony to protect Peter Parker from the same, once Steve finds out that sweet little high school virgin Peter is gay. Ends up with putting the pieces of Tony back together again.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Reading/writing _fictional_ stuff like this can be hot. It's a kink to read and write it. And reading/writing fucked up shit in no way condones fucked up shit in real life. It's cathartic, its erotic, it can be sexy as fuck, and it can be wank fodder. It's fiction. That means nothing about the person reading/writing it. It's fictional. No one is hurt. Get over it.
> 
> If this isn't your cuppa ☕, you know where the back button is. The stuff's been tagged for. You have been warned. Nasty comments will be deleted. 
> 
> But not-nasty comments are encouraged. They keep the writer happy and writing more perversion. 😜

Tony had a big cock but it was microscopic compared to the one that his father’s serum had given Steve. 

Shit had happened. Shit was still happening. Nothing was settled. Nothing ever would be. But they still hooked up. Been doing that for years. It was on a very rare occasion, but in that rarity, Tony liked getting fucked. Rhodey was off the menu. They hadn’t fucked since they were at MIT. That left the big dick with the biggest dick. It wasn’t good but it wasn’t bad, as long as it was only once in a blue moon. 

How Tony found himself in this position… Wrong time. Wrong place. Wrong situation. Wrong man in his bed. Repeatedly. In a row. Familiarity, and all that, breeding contempt. Easy when Steve’s contempt was barely hidden beneath an awfully thin skin. 

But contempt was an old familiar friend. Tony supposed that’s why it happened. It started innocently (if kinkily) enough. A bit of dirty talk dropped while he had a mouth full of cock. Steve’s hand settled on the back of his head. His fingers twisted painfully in his hair. Steve forced himself down far enough that even someone as experienced as Tony was left gagging. Experience didn’t teach anyone anything about taking something as  _ huge  _ as Steve. The more Tony gagged, sputtered, struggled, fought, the tighter Steve held his head, the more painful the pull on his hair. 

“Goddamn faggot cocksucker,” Steve growled.

Tony’s cock jumped in response, going from hard to dripping to on the verge of coming.

“Fucking take it, fag. You’re just gagging to have a man’s dick shoved down your throat. All you pretty sissy boys turn into goddamn whores for any man’s dick you think you can put your pervert mouth on.” He was fucking himself with Tony’s throat, oblivious to Tony’s continued struggles. “You’ve got a man’s cock now, stop acting like a pussy, Stark.  _ Swallow it!” _

Steve let Tony up for breath before he shoved back in, grinding his face into coarse blond hair, pumping his load straight down into his stomach without relenting. Tony’s head was swimming from lack of air. He felt himself come. It was a distant feeling, detached from himself. The only thing he knew was the struggle to breathe. Even so, he moaned with pleasure around Steve’s cock. It was more like a choking gurgle. He swore he was going to pass out, but just before he did, when black was creeping in around his vision, Steve pulled him off his cock, the force of it sending him sprawling on the floor. He jerked himself a couple of times, finishing coming, splattering it on Tony’s face.

“Fuckin’ faggot. Lick your filth up off the floor.” Tony hesitated. “You wanna be a cum-guzzling fag Stark, EAT IT!”

Tony’s cock was spent, but it gave a half-hearted twitch at Steve’s words as he crawled to the spot on his black marble floor where his come was pooled. He didn’t hesitate to obey, licking and sucking at the mess. When the floor was clean, he sat cross-legged at Steve’s feet. 

“God you’re disgusting. Clean your face.”

Tony started to stand and was kicked down. Steve’s boot was pressing in the center of his chest, over the arc reactor, pinning him flat on his back. “I said  _ clean _ not  _ wash. _ Fingers. Eat it. That’s my come, faggot. It goes in your mouth or in your ass. Not washed down the fuckin’ drain. Got it?”

“Uh huh,” Tony said around two come-coated fingers in his mouth.

“That’s ‘yes sir’ to you Stark.”

“Yes sir,” Tony replied, swiping his fingers on his face again and sucking Steve’s come off of them. When he’d finished, Steve zipped his trousers. He left without a word or a backward glance. Leaving Tony, sitting on the floor, stunned and half-hard.

It was a revelatory experience.

Tony just thought he’d discovered a new kink. No reason for it. Kinks needed no reason. What floated one’s boat, simply floated one’s boat. One more thing to consider doing on the occasional, rare, night that he and Steve fucked.

It was late the next night when Steve suddenly turned up at the penthouse.

“Naked in bed. Face down, ass up, as the kids these days say,” Steve barked without preamble.

“I wasn’t expect…” Tony’s head spun from Steve’s light slap.

“I didn’t ask for words, Stark. I hear enough of them from you every goddamn day.” He waited, watching for Tony to obey him. “Get your ass naked  _ now.” _

Tony stripped. Steve grabbed him by the hair and tugged, knocking him off his feet, dragging him to his bedroom, bodily lifting him and throwing him into the middle of the bed. “Ass in the air, fag. I got a load in my balls that needs depositing somewhere. You should thank me that I remembered that I have a handy faggot at my disposal.”

Tony blinked slowly, still stunned, but rolled onto his stomach.

“I said, you should thank me.”

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“What?” Steve’s hand landed painfully on his ass.

“Thank you sir,” Tony said louder and hiked his ass up.

Steve knew where Tony kept the lube from their previous hookups. Under the fourth pillow on his ridiculously huge Alaskan king bed. He coated his cock, gave it a few pumps to get it hard, then shoved it into Tony, bottoming out in one stroke. Tony’s scream rang out at top volume, high-pitched, through the penthouse. Steve fucked wildly into him, hard and fast, not letting up. Tony started screaming, begging, pleading, only to be smacked on the ass if he didn’t do it right, if he said Steve instead of sir. The minute the word ‘no’ came out of him, Steve grabbed him by the hair, pulled his head up, and smacked the back of his head before pushing him down into the pillow. 

“Shut the fuck up, fag. I’m doing you a favor. A girl’s pussy doesn’t take all of a dick as big as mine. But faggot pussy? You queers just love a big dick dontcha?”

“Yes sir,” Tony whimpered. 

Steve reached under Tony and found him hard. “Shit, Stark. I pegged you for a goddamn sissy from the first time I saw you, but not one bad enough to get fuckin’ hard taking it up the ass without all that sweet talk I used to waste on you. I’ve fucked some pretty disgusting faggots before but damn!” 

He fucked into Tony’s ass harder and faster. Tony’s cock leaked down onto the sheet. 

Steve laughed. “You got ‘em all fooled Stark. Talking about how much of a total top you are in bed. Got every damn fag in the compound drooling over your tiny little dick when all you get off on is a real man bothering to use your faggot ass to dump a load in.”

Tony winced when he heard himself whimper needily. 

“I’m not stopping until you fuckin’ come from my dick. Supersoldier, super stamina. We can be here until dawn, until you come from getting your cunt stuffed.”

Tony went to reach under himself. Steve grabbed one wrist then the other and pinned them behind his back, holding them in the grip of one hand while the other dug into his hip. “I said, you come on my dick or you don’t come at all.”

The loss of his hands to help him balance shoved his face into the mattress. He turned his head to the side to breathe. His mouth was slack, panting, drooling. His pupils blown black, and his cock twitching, hard, hanging down helplessly in the air. “Yes sir,” he gasped out, realizing that coming untouched was indeed… a possibility? a likelihood!… even under these circumstances. It didn’t take long with Steve fucking him hard, heaping verbal abuse on him, pulling his arms so far behind his back that he thought surely the man would rip them right off, forgetting his strength. 

When he came, Steve kept fucking him relentlessly, taking his time to get to his own orgasm. Taking Tony past the point of pleasure to the point of pain before he finally filled his aching hole with come. Supersoldier, super stamina, super-fucking-sized load.

Steve pulled out once he came. He let go of Tony’s wrists. Gasping, Tony started to let himself down out of the tight arch that Steve had pulled him into.

“Did I say you could move?” Steve said as he went to the bathroom.

Tony turned his head to look in the doorway, but kept his ass in the air, feeling Steve’s come run out of his gaping hole. 

Steve smirked at Tony as he washed his cock in the sink. He pushed his cock back into his pants and zipped up. “I better see my dry come on your thighs when I come over tomorrow night. If you need to clean the rest of you, take a whore’s bath. You wear my come under your pretty pansy suit all day or it won’t go well for you.” 

In the bedroom, Steve walked around to the foot of the bed, and stared at Tony’s ass. “You don’t look like much of a man Stark, kneeling in your own filth, your cunt busted open dripping with come. Feel like a big man now,  _ Tony?” _

The heat burned shameful on his face. “No sir.”

Steve snorted in disgust. Tony couldn’t see what he was doing, but he knew when he heard the sound of a phone’s camera clicking.

“You’re gonna be my hole to fuck whenever I want or this hits the internet.”

Tony knew his face didn’t show, but to some people, the rest of the team, anyone he’d brought to his room, it would be undeniably him.

“Don’t move, faggot, until I’m gone.”

That was the first inkling that Tony had that his friends-with-kinky-benefits deal with Steve might be turning into enemies-with-rape.


	2. The Man He Hated Most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> Bucky snorted. “What are you, Stark? A billionaire playboy or a faggot whore?”
> 
> “A faggot whore, sir,” he said, only hesitating a bit when he did.

_**Coming by at ten. Have a late dinner for two ready. Cook it yourself. Make sure no one else is there. Or let them be. IDGAF who watches me fuck your cunt,**_ Steve’s text read.

_**Cancel your early meetings. You won’t be getting any sleep tonight,**_ read the second one.

Tony was actually a pretty decent cook, which Steve knew from times they’d eaten together on their dates. 

“Why are you wearing clothes?” Steve asked as he and Bucky stepped from the elevator. “Men wear clothes. Fags go naked.”

Bucky chuckled. “You got us a camp whore, Steve?”

Steve shrugged his head to the side. “Camp fag, but his cunt will do. Are you fucking deaf, Stark, strip!”

Tony was dumbstruck seeing Barnes in his home. He might be welcomed at the compound, he was never welcomed _ here. _“No,” he said firmly, flatly. “Get the fuck out.” His head didn’t just spin from the force of Steve’s slap, he was knocked to the ground and could feel the sharp welt of a hand print rapidly raising on his face. The mark would stay for days, showing everyone he’d been bitch-slapped.

Steve bent over Tony while he was still blinking away a likely concussion. He grabbed Tony’s clothes in his hands and shredded them until there wasn’t a stitch on him. “Lie there. On your back. Spread your legs and show me.”

Tony rolled onto his back, sprawled on the floor, and spread his legs wide apart. Dried white come ran in streaks down both of them.

“Told you.” Steve looked down at Tony. “You should be glad Bucky killed your parents. Saved them from seeing what a pathetic faggot you turned out to be.”

Tony stretched out his arm and called the Mark XLV.

“Oh please,” Steve said, kicking the glove and sleeve away. “We’ve already had this fight before. You’re lucky the Russians found you. You lost. You’ll lose again. You fight like the pussy you are. Go get our dinner, bitch, and call your armor off.”

Supremely unconcerned with Tony’s half-donned armor, Steve and Barnes sat down to the dining table, where two place settings were laid. Tony let his armor drop and sent it back to his workshop. Normally being naked, in front of strangers or even in front of someone he hated, Tony would just be able to put on his ‘I’m Tony Stark and you are blessed to see me naked’ persona, But Steve, the way he’d been lately, made him feel vulnerable in ways he couldn’t fathom. He knew he was in over his head, but it was all still thrillingly sexy, even the photographic blackmail. It wasn’t even a threat because he’d have FRIDAY purge that shit before it ever left his phone. Last night he’d written new protocols for just that. Steve’s phone was trapped. Nothing would go to the internet from it without it passing through FRIDAY first. But it would _ look _ like it had.

The fact that Steve would do such a thing, combined with the (hot but) burning shame of what they’d been doing lately, left him feeling vulnerable. And now Steve had brought the man he hated most in the world to his home. To eat, and to, presumably, join in their sex. To fuck Tony. Without his armor, even with it, they were both physically stronger than him.

Tony didn’t hesitate, he brought the dinner he’d made for him and Steve and served it to Steve and Bucky. They were talking to each other, and as he moved around the table serving them, they’d grab his ass or touch him.

Steve reached out and hefted Tony’s soft cock and balls. “Can you believe _ this _ is what half the compound is lusting after?”

Bucky laughed. “I hear them. Talking about how _ big _ Stark’s cock is. If only they knew.” He looked up at Tony with a smirk. “It’s nothing but a big clit on a pussy.”

“Thinks he’s a man with that thing. Turn around,” Steve ordered Tony. His hand was at the ready if Tony didn’t. “Bend over. Spread your legs and grab your ankles.” 

Tony’s cheeks flushed hot and his eyes flared angry, but he did it. Steve grabbed one ass cheek and pulled, opening him, exposing his hole. Covered in Steve’s dried come.

“Did you like it, fag? Wearing my come underneath your fancy five thousand dollar suit while you played at being a man, running your business?”

From his position, Tony said, “Yes sir.” 

“Made you hot, got you horny, knowing you were covered in my come? Made you hard?”

“Yes sir, it did. I could feel it. Uncomfortable. But covered in it. Yes sir, it got me hard.”

“Damn Steve. No wonder we were able to beat the crap out of him. Most fags will take a good fucking and maybe even get hard while they’re getting it. But getting hard from that? With nothing else going on? He’s kind of a pig, isn’t he?”

“Yep.” 

Steve smacked Tony’s ass, which Tony took as permission to stand. It was.

“Get under the table. Keep Bucky’s dick warm while we eat,” Steve ordered.

The thought of that man’s cock in his mouth nauseated him. But he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled under his glass topped dining table. Bucky reached down, unzipped, and took his cock and balls out of his fly. He wasn’t as bulked up as Steve was, but he was still a supersoldier, and here, it showed. His cock was the equal of Steve’s. Even soft, it was huge.

Tony knew what cockwarming was. He enjoyed having his more adventurous partners do it to him. So even though he’d never done it to anyone, he knew the theory. Take a soft cock into your mouth, don’t stimulate it, just keep it there. He’d heard them say that it was difficult to keep a cock as big as Tony’s, entirely in their mouth. It stretched it so wide that it ached, even hurt. Which always served to turn Tony on even more.

The cock inches from his face was giant. Tony opened his mouth as wide and took as much as he could into it. 

“Farther in your mouth,” Bucky muttered. “All the way to the back of it, not just resting on your tongue. And hold that tongue still.”

Tony forced himself to take more. All the way back, just before his gag reflex was triggered. Holding him so deep, without moving his mouth, instinctively swallowing, was impossible.

Bucky reached down and grabbed Tony’s hair in his metal hand. He pulled his head back, jerking his mouth free of his cock. “I said, keep your fucking mouth still, fag. I know it’s hard for you disgusting perverts to look at a cock and not wanna suck, but do it.” 

The position didn’t let him give much force to the swing, but it still stung when Bucky slapped Tony across the face, over Steve’s mark. He let his hair go and Tony tried again. He put Bucky’s huge cock into his mouth, as far back as it would go, and concentrated on holding his tongue still and not making swallowing motions. He managed it, but it took continuously concentrating on it. Bucky’s soft cock was heavy in his mouth. Warm. Forcing his jaw wide. It was hardly any time before Tony’s jaw began to ache and the corners of his mouth started feeling like they’d be torn wide open by the intrusion. Their conversation kept them eating slowly.

When they were almost finished, Bucky looked down at Tony through the glass table. “Go on, sissy, you can get me hard now. Suck my dick, bitch,” Barnes said with a low half-chuckle. 

Tony slid his mouth back, The ease of the pain he was in was a relief. But he knew it was only temporary. He knew how much it hurt two days ago when Steve fucked his face. Tony’s head bobbed on Bucky’s cock. He took the shaft in his hand and tried to focus his mouth on the head.

Bucky pulled his hand away. “I said suck my dick, not jerk me off.” He shook his head and looked at Steve. “They get cock-stupid, on’t they?”

“Pretends to be a goddamn genius and his brain turns to mush when you wave a dick in his face. Just like any other stupid faggot.”

Tony couldn’t deepthroat Barnes, but took him down to the back of his mouth, creating suction with his lips closed around the man’s shaft. It was something he was fond of doing, even as a top. This, he knew how to do.

“Now me,” Steve said, flopping his soft cock and balls out of his pants.

Tony slipped his mouth down off of Barnes’ cock. The man slapped him in the face with it a couple times before Tony scooted himself over between Steve’s legs and proceeded to do the same thing he’d done to Barnes to get him fully erect. When Steve was hard, Tony pulled off and sat cross-legged on the floor under the table, between them. The two supersoldiers pushed away from the table and stood. Their hard cocks jutted out huge and ready. Ready to use Tony in whatever way they wanted. Tony wished his own small cock wasn’t plumping up at the idea of that.

“Get into your bed and wait,” Steve said, slowly stroking his cock. Tony went to stand. “Crawl,” Steve ordered. Tony obeyed and crawled across the living room, down the hall, and into his bedroom. Steve and Barnes followed him, watching his ass the entire time.

“You told me he has a pretty ass, you didn’t lie buddy.”

“They call it a bubble butt,” Steve said as he huffed a laugh. “It’s a whore’s ass. It looks like it always needs a big dick up it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ," Bucky swore. "That bed is bigger than your apartment was. It’s fucking obscene. People still live in places like that and this asshole lives like this.”

“The one percent. Lording it over the ‘little people’," Steve said with disgust. "Makes even a fag feel like he’s a man. Forgets what he is.”

“Not once he sees a hard cock, he doesn’t, right Stark?” Bucky smirked. “A hard dick reminds you of the faggot whore you are.”

“Yes sir,” he said to Bucky. 

Bucky snorted. “What are you, Stark? A billionaire playboy or a faggot whore?”

“A faggot whore, sir,” he said, only hesitating a bit when he did. He felt his cheeks flush as he said the words. He crawled up into his bed and put himself on all fours in the middle of it. 


	3. Heads Or Tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**
> 
> * * *
> 
> “She kicked and struggled and reached out for your already dead father. She screamed out his name as her last word. Not yours. She didn’t give a fuck about her faggot son. Then she went still, just like you’re doing.”

Steve fished in his pocket, coming up with a quarter. “Heads or tails, Buck.”

Bucky looked at Tony kneeling there. Out of his suit, naked, There was none of the man he knew in Siberia, or even saw wandering around the compound. Just one more naked camp follower faggot waiting for soldiers to use him and fuck him. Just like the disgusting fags would be carried along with the Howling Commandos, ready to relieve the stress of a long day’s battle. Passed around to everyone. Begging for it even after they’d taken their fourth or fifth dick in one of their holes. The famous, powerful, intimidating Tony Stark was nothing but another fag.

“Heads,” Bucky said. “Wanna choke another Stark.”

The game went too far. The quarter landed, but before Steve could call it, Tony pushed himself to the far side of the bed and stood up. “Get the fuck out of my house!” he yelled. “This is **_OVER_**. You and I are done, Rogers, and **_that_**_…”_ Tony pointed at Barnes. “Needs to go out the door NOW or he’s going out the goddamn window.”

Steve laughed and lept over the entire width of the bed in one jump. He slammed Tony’s naked body to the floor. A moment later, Bucky joined him. Together they pinned Tony down to where he couldn’t move. Bucky grabbed his arms, Steve his legs. They put him back up on the bed and moved him into position on all fours again.

“That’s not how you talk to a man, faggot.” Bucky growled. He yanked Tony’s hair and pulled his head up to look at him. “I don’t care where the toss landed, I get heads. Open your fucking mouth bitch.”

Tony clamped his jaw shut. The metal hand pulled his hair, Bucky’s other hand squeezed Tony’s nose closed. He fought it as long as he could, but he opened his mouth, gasping for breath. As soon as he did, his mouth was filled with cock. Much as Tony wanted to bite down, he couldn’t. His jaw was forced so wide open with Bucky’s girth, he had no leverage to close his mouth and bite. He flailed with his hands, now free, trying to claw and push the man away. Bucky pushed past the back of Tony’s mouth and forced his way down his throat.

While Tony was fighting and struggling against Bucky’s gagging him, Tony screamed, muffled by the cock in his mouth, as Steve entered his ass, dry, in one sharp thrust. It didn’t matter how much Tony clawed and kicked, the two supersoldiers took what they wanted. No matter how kinky it had been with Steve up until then, Tony was as far away from getting hard or turned on as it was possible to get.

Steve pounded his ass relentlessly. Dry, it felt like his insides were being pulled inside out every time Steve pulled back. Then they were shoved back in on the next thrust. Steve had an iron grip on his hips and they would be bruised black tomorrow. Finger marks clear on his skin. A reminder of what Steve was doing to him. One that would last, undeniable, for days. Tony screamed, muffled into a horrible sound by the dick in his mouth. His screams just opened his mouth wider and let Barnes push in deeper. And his screams came with tears. Tony  ** _never _ ** cried, not since he was twelve. No matter how much pain he was in. He hadn’t cried while getting open heart surgery without anesthetic. Screamed, sure. Writhed in terror and agony. But cry? His eyes never even got moist. His face was a tear streaked mess. And dripped with thick drool from choking on cock. 

Bucky fucked his face hard and fast, never pulling out of his mouth, only far enough out of his throat that he could try to snort a breath through his nose. He was gagging so badly he felt his body revolt against Barnes’ dick in his throat. Tony felt himself try to vomit, but there was no place for it to go. His throat was filled. He choked it back down into his stomach. Barnes closed his flesh hand around Tony’s neck, rubbing it up and down, like he was jerking himself off inside Tony’s throat.

“Body memory,” Bucky said evenly, deadly. “They wiped my mind, but my body remembers. Remembers what it was like having your mom’s neck in my hand. Feeling my fingers tighten around it.” 

Barnes closed his hand tighter around Tony’s neck. Blood pounded in his brain. He tried to kick and struggle, but the hand around his neck cut off his ability to do so. His body went lax. His head spun. 

“She kicked and struggled and reached out for your already dead father. She screamed out  _ his  _ name as her last word. Not yours. She didn’t give a fuck about her faggot son. Then she went still, just like you’re doing.” 

Bucky loosened his grip and blood rushed back into Tony’s head. The horrifying world came back into focus. 

“I’m not going to kill you Stark,” Bucky said coldly. “It was mercifully quick for your mom. You’re gonna suffer, bitch.”

Steve laughed. “Why should we give up our pet faggot, right Buck? You’re good for one thing,  _ Tony. _ Do you have any idea how great your dad’s experiment on my body worked? I can get it up four, five times a day. Shoot a full load every time. Go for as long as I want while I’m fucking. Refractory factor? What’s that? I come and then it’s right back up again. Four, five times a day,  _ Tony. _ Both Bucky and me. One day I went six times. What’s your record, Buck?” 

Steve spoke as casually as he had over dinner, all the while tearing up Tony’s ass.

“Beat you, Steven. Eight. HYDRA was full of perverted bastards that liked watching me fuck. They liked watching me torture-fuck. Had me bust this one guy open eight times. He screamed and spilled every word of info he had. He was done after the fourth time. Then it just went on so the STRIKE team could settle a bet.” He shoved himself down Tony’s throat again and yanked his head up at the same time to look in his face. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Stark. All night.”

“Hope you cancelled those early meetings. We’re not stopping until the sun comes up.”

They took their time to finish. Tony was weak. His body couldn’t hold itself into any position. He went wherever Steve and Bucky put him while they raped him. They didn’t come inside him, neither mouth or ass. Barnes came first. He pulled out of Tony’s mouth and covered his face with copious thick hot white ropes of come. He propped Tony up on his bent elbows so his face wouldn’t be on the bed and wipe it clean. Then he pushed back against the headboard and took his phone out of his pocket, shooting picture after picture of the state he left Tony in. Stunned, eyes glassy red-rimmed and bright with tears, come dripped down into them. mouth gaping and gurgling full of come, lips bright red with it running out over them and dripping down his chin to the bed, and the lurid bruise of Steve’s handprint rising on his cheek, clear even through the white mess. Barnes laughed as he took more pictures.

“You love seeing your face on magazine covers, dontcha, Stark? Wonder how much the tabloid rags would pay me for these?” 

If he’d had the strength to, his eyes would have gone wide. If his voice hadn’t been fucked raw, he would have objected. He could stop any picture from turning up on the internet with FRIDAY. But Barnes literally walking into a print newspaper office and giving them the pictures he took, and then them printing them onto physical paper? He could try to figure out a way for FRIDAY to stop it happening. If he could think about anything but the (literal) pain in his ass.

Steve was still pounding away. It felt less dry. Tony wasn’t sure if he was bleeding or if it was precome. But it helped microscopically with the discomfort of his long, deep thrusts. He leaned on his elbows, his face a mess, and tried to settle in. Thinking of anything he could other than what Steve was doing to him. The steady hard fast rhythm hurt, but it was a rhythm and it could be adjusted to. 

Steve noticed Tony spacing out, not screaming, not reacting at all to being fucked. He pulled entirely out, waited a beat, and then thrust entirely in again. This time Tony’s scream wasn’t muffled by cock. Loud and high and full of pain. And accompanied by laughter from both supersoldiers. Steve did it again and Tony’s screaming continued. Out and then slammed in, over and over, but Steve would fuck for a while once in, so Tony could never anticipate when the next entry would be. 

Barnes was scooted back from him at the head of the bed. He sat there legs spread wide, his cock lying at rest between them. In Tony’s line of sight. The cock that choked him was all he could see. And it was plumping up again every time he screamed. There was a different tone in his screams. Sometimes it was sudden shock and surprise at the entry. Sometimes it was in pain. Tony’s screams of pain were what made Bucky’s cock swell.

“Steve, when you’re done with his cunt, my turn.”

Steve laughed. “You always did like sloppy seconds.” Steve pumped hard and fast, chasing his orgasm. He pulled out before he came. Tony felt the heat of his load spray over his back.

“You’re up. Got the fag’s pussy all loose for you.” He smacked Tony hard on the ass, not pulling his strength back, so hard he went sprawled flat on the bed. “Thank Bucky for using you to empty his balls twice.” Tony didn’t say anything. He was hit on the ass again. “I said, thank the man who killed your parents for fucking their faggot son.”

The next slap, placed over the first two, forced the words out of Tony on a tearful sob. “Thank you sir for fucking me.”

Bucky hadn’t moved from in front of Tony yet. He was already half hard from listening to Tony scream in pain. He got closer to there when Tony said that.

“Not good enough, Stark,” Barnes said, his voice thick and low with lust. “Repeat after me. ‘Thank you Sergeant Barnes for killing my parents so they wouldn’t know what a filthy faggot their son turned out to be’. And look at me while you say it.”

Tony knew all that refusal would bring him more pain. “Thank you Sergeant Barnes…” He choked on the words. “For…” Tears flowed freely down the face of the man who never cried. “Killing my parents… so they… wouldn’t know… what… a filthy faggot their son turned out to be.”

“Shit, Steve.” Bucky climbed from his position and moved to kneel between Tony’s legs. “You fucked him a few times and now he’s nothing but a pathetic cumslut. You were always the best at breaking a faggot’s head.” His hands closed around Tony’s finger-bruised hips and Tony’s ass was pulled up.

Steve laughed as he sat where Bucky had been, in front of Tony’s face. He shrugged. “It’s a talent.”


	4. Wash Away The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> Steve took a handful of coins out of his pocket. He counted five quarters out and put them on the nightstand. Bucky did the same but with six. “Never let it be said that the Howling Commandos didn’t pay their whores the price they were worth,” Bucky said.

Bucky’s cock slammed into the gape Steve had left Tony’s ass with and he started fucking. Tony stared ahead at Steve’s cock, being leisurely stroked. “Balance on your elbows, bitch. Stick out your hands and hold my balls while my buddy fucks your faggot cunt.”

Tony shifted his position and put his arms out, cupping his palms. Steve hefted his hairy blond, low hanging balls, heavily into his hands.

“Pathetic,” Steve said with disgust. “You just hold my big nuts in your prissy hands, Stark. Give ‘em a little roll every now and then.” Tony did what Steve said. The man snorted. “Fucking crying like a sissy on the playground.” He laughed. “Pretty boy. You look prettier with a load on your face. Prettier still with your lips around my dick.” Steve slid forward, held his hard cock up, waiting, and Tony took it in his mouth without prompting.

As Steve warned, he and Bucky were there until the sky lightened outside Tony’s east-facing bedroom window. Tony was covered in come, fresh and dripping, dried and crusted, all over his face and body. Steve and Bucky dressed. Tony lay on the bed, stunned, exhausted, in pain — both physically and emotionally. Both men took dozens of pictures of him lying there, They made him lie on his stomach, legs spread, and took pictures of his gaping, come dripping hole. They had him roll on his back and took pictures of his face. On his side to take pictures of the entire state of him. Tony followed their direction, too out of his body to resist. 

Steve took a handful of coins out of his pocket. He counted five quarters out and put them on the nightstand. Bucky did the same but with six. “Never let it be said that the Howling Commandos didn’t pay their whores the price they were worth,” Bucky said.

“Ya always gotta show me up, Buck,” Steve complained looking at the extra quarter on Bucky’s side.

Bucky shrugged. “Yours is bigger, mine works better.” Steve punched him genially on the arm as they left.

The sun was well up before Tony dragged himself, limping, aching, bruised, to the shower and let the water wash away the night. He stared at his reflection when he got out of the shower. Steve’s hand print on his face was already black and very clearly a _ hand _ print. No pretending he got the bruise any other way. His hips were dug in with dozens of finger bruises, all deep and tender. The cheeks of his ass were both covered in hand prints. His arms were bruised. His wrists. His thighs. Neither one of them had pulled their strength when grabbing him or moving him where they wanted to. He supposed he was lucky that there weren’t broken bones. 

As he was changing the linens, he spoke. “FRIDAY, Rogers and Barnes are not allowed in any of my personal levels of the Tower. Wipe their phones immediately. If that’s not soon enough, if they’ve already spread them, I need you to scan any publications, anywhere in the world, and block any photos of me before they hit print. Before. Anywhere the pictures are headed, block them before they hit their destination, not afterwards.”

Tony climbed naked into bed. He knew he should’ve dressed. He didn’t feel like he… earned the right… to cover his damaged body. “Can you also cancel all my appointments and schedule for the next week, girl? No one is allowed up to my levels. No one. ABSOLUTELY no one. No overrides except _ directly _from me. Not for the next… week at least. Not until the hand print on my face fades enough to not look like a hand print,” he told his AI. “Intercept all calls with a message that I’m not feeling well and need to rest up a bit. Cold, flu, whatever excuse will work and not have the person calling for a doctor after. Figure one out.”

“Boss, you should call a doctor. Your contusions are serious. Your wrist is sprained. You have a concussion. And you have minor rectal bleeding.”

“I know what I have,” Tony said, snappishly but weakly. 

“You might wish to consider contacting the authorities, though that would’ve best been done before you showered,” FRIDAY said quietly.

“Absolutely not. No one is going to know that Iron Man just got raped by Captain America and… the man who killed my parents.” Tony shuddered deeply when he said that.

“Perhaps you should call Dr. Weston,” FRIDAY suggested, mentioning the psychiatrist who helped Tony get over his ‘anxiety’ (that wasn’t PTSD at all!) after the wormhole.

“I’ll handle it Fri. Soon as the bruises fade, I’ll be right as rain,” Tony said without much conviction. But he knew that he would. No one knew that this wasn’t the first time. The first time… no. Not going there. The second time was when he was fifteen at a frat party his first year at MIT. He picked himself up, dusted himself off, and went to class at eight the next morning, his lesson learned. 

Tony Stark handles his own shit.

A week and a half later, Tony stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror after his shower. The bruises on his body were still purple, but Steve’s hand print was already turning a sickly yellow instead of black and blue. He tried every bruise treatment known on his face. A few of them helped. Another few days and concealer would take care of what was left. Then he could leave the penthouse and get back to his life.


	5. Two Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “I bet you’re counting the days until you won’t get arrested for statutory rape. He probably is too. I’ll leave you two pansies to bump pussies together. You deserve each other.”

“Captain Rogers is stopped in the elevator a floor below your private levels, boss. He is demanding I show you a video. It’s of Peter Parker.”

Tony gripped the edge of the lavatory counter, white knuckled. He closed his eyes and winced. “Show me,” he gasped out. 

Peter was sitting on the edge of the bed in his room at the compound. He had taken to spending most Saturdays there, learning how to handle his abilities better. He looked worried and dejected. Steve walked past the door.

“Captain Rogers?” Peter asked. Steve stopped. “Have you heard from Mr. Stark? He… he… isn’t answering my calls.” Peter looked sad.

Steve came into Peter’s room and sat down on the bed next to him. He patted the boy’s knee. “Stark’s not known for his reliability. He’s probably off on a bender with a bevy of barely legal models. I wouldn’t hold out hope of hearing from him for a few weeks.”

“Oh.” Peter went from sad to heartbroken. “It’s just… I had something important to tell him. About… my life… But he probably doesn’t care.”

“Sorry kid, you’re probably right there. You know, you can always talk to me. Been told I’m a good listener. And despite pushing ninety, I was a teenager once, y’know.” Steve smiled.

“I went out with this girl… MJ… I thought I had a crush on her… maybe more than a crush… but… we…” The tips of Peter’s ears turned pink. “When we kissed, we both found out something about ourselves. We’re better off friends.”

“That happens, Peter. At least you’re still friends. There’ll be another girl for you.”

“No, Captain Rogers. That’s what we found out.” Peter’s blush rose on his cheeks. “There might be another girl for her, but there’ll only be another boy for me. I’m gay.” He bit his lip. “I wanted to talk to Mr. Stark because… I know… _ everybody _ knows… he’s bi. And I thought… he could… you know… give me some advice.” Peter looked close to tears. “But I guess he’s too busy.” 

The video cut to Steve’s voice. “Nice little baby faggot you’ve reared up there, Stark. Nice little virgin just gagging for his first dick.”

Tony didn’t bother putting on clothes. He knew what Steve wanted. “Let Rogers up.”

“Should I call the authorities, boss?”

“No. You should shut the fuck up, Fri, and mind your own business.”

Steve smirked when the elevator door opened and he saw Tony, naked, waiting for him. “Thought that might get your attention.”

Tony sighed resignedly. “Yeah. Whatever. Just…” His anger flared hot and fast. “If you hurt Peter, I _ will _find a way to kill you.” Resignation settled back in. “What do you want?”

“Two weeks.”

“Huh?”

“Here’s how you end this, Stark. Two solid weeks. You have a private island I heard you bragging about. You, me, and Bucky. Two weeks alone there. You do whatever we want, whenever we want it. You take whatever we dish out. Factor in some healing time for you after, you’ll need it,” he said, cupping Tony’s face over his fading hand print.

Tony flinched. “And then?”

“It’s done. You’re safe. Pretty Peter Parker’s virginity is safe. From us, anyway. You perverts can’t resist corrupting a pretty boy.”

Tony snorted. “I’m supposed to just _ trust _ you?”

Steve shrugged. “After a couple of weeks, it gets boring. You get broken, stop fighting, get sloppy and greedy for the abuse, and, eh… no fun.”

“Got experience in this, huh?” Tony said bitterly.

“Long marches are dull. Better with a camp follower to kick around. Since getting back, all I have to do is walk near certain areas… not even in them… can’t have my reputation ruined… the pathetic fags just throw themselves at me and are so hungry for my dick, I can do anything to them. A week and they’re not worth even abusing anymore.”

“You said two weeks.”

“With you, Stark, two is the minimum. But I want to leave before you start getting _ needy.” _

Tony scoffed. “I’d never need you, Rogers. Never.”

Steve laughed. “You’ll be begging _ both _ of us, with sincerity, before two weeks is over. Fags are all the same.”

“And if I don’t?”

“A man’s gotta dump his load somewhere.” Steve held up his phone with a naked picture of Peter, just having come out of the shower. “There’s a lot of cameras in the compound. Not all of them are yours.” Steve enlarged the picture, focused on Peter’s cock. “Is that even a dick? The spider did nothing for him in that department. What’s that gotta be, four inches fully hard? No wonder he’s a faggot. Not much you can do when you have a micro-dick except take it up the ass.” Steve chuckled. “I’m sure he’d let…” He imitated Peter’s voice, “‘Mr. Stark’… pop that cherry of his. Idiot thinks the sun rises and sets on you. If only he knew what you are.”

“So two weeks as you and Barnes’ personal fucktoy and you leave Peter alone. Permanently. I don’t even want to see you getting friendly with him again. It’s gonna be cold and professional only. Both of you. And if you _ ever _ lay a hand on him again, even the way you did, I’ll cut that fucking hand off. Do not test me on this, Rogers. If I can’t best you, I’ll build something that can.”

“Two weeks Stark and you’re free. _ Parker’s _ free.” Steve stepped back. “Tomorrow we’ll meet you at LaGuardia at your private hangar. Have everything ready on your private island. And fix your schedule. Two weeks and eh… I’d give yourself at least three to heal up, unless you just don’t give a fuck what people see.”

“I can’t be gone that long…”

“The Avengers will do without Bucky and me for a couple of weeks. We’ll cover for you for the remaining time. Your business is your problem. You know the consequences of failure. Parker would probably be more fun than you. Trying to find a way to subdue someone with his strength. It’d be a challenge. Plus… he heals. We could tear his hole wide open and he’d be a virgin again the next morning.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rogers or I’ll call Veronica right through my goddamn roof to handle you.” Steve laughed at his threat. “Fine. Two weeks with you. No photos. Not a word. We leave what happens on my island there. And you shut the hell up about Peter.”

“Eh, maybe. If I fuckin’ feel like it. Gotta tell you, it would be fun to have you both.”

Tony went into the stance to call the Mark XLV and have it surround Steve. The pieces came flying.

“Please. Covering yourself in your…” Steve startled when the glove landed on his hand. Then the foot and leg piece. And the rest were coming. “You’re about to guarantee Parker’s fate, Stark,” Steve growled.

Tony gave the signal and the incoming pieces dropped to the floor. The pieces on Steve released. “You’re about to guarantee your own, Rogers,” Tony warned. “I don’t want to hear Peter’s name in your mouth. You stay. The fuck. Away. From him.”

“I bet you’re counting the days until you won’t get arrested for statutory rape. He probably is too. I’ll leave you two pansies to bump pussies together. You deserve each other.” Steve turned on his heel and headed for the elevator.

When Steve was gone, Tony straightened himself up and went into his dressing room to put some clothes on. While he dressed, he worked out his alibi.


	6. Heroes Have Feet Of Clay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “I’d need it to be only you, Helen. No nurses, no assistants, no… anybody else. No log of any treatment. And…” Tony hesitated. “No judgment or questions about my injuries. Not how I got them. Not who gave them to me. No questions at all. Just treat them, leave, and never tell anyone about it.”

“Peter?” His call went to voicemail. “Turns out staying home drinking yourself stupid, not sleeping, and not eating isn’t a good recipe for health. I’m sorry I missed your calls. I… I’m a mess. And… sometimes an alcoholic falls off the wagon. I’m sorry. I kinda need to… go somewhere for awhile. I’m telling Happy to take all your calls and not give you grief about it. He really is a good person to talk to, once you get to know him. He knows _ all _my secrets and never tells anyone. He can know all of yours. As soon as I get back Pete… I’m gonna miss you kid… I already do. But I’m a fucked up prick sometimes. I’m probably going to be gone for about a month and a half, maybe two. I’m no good to anyone like this. I gotta get my mind straight. Get sober again. I’m sorry I failed you. I hope you can understand. Heroes have feet of clay.”

About a minute later, Tony’s phone rang.

“Mr. Stark… it’s okay. I… shouldn’t pester…”

Thankfully Peter hadn’t requested a facetime call. “Pete, you never pester me, okay kid? I’ve…” Tony sighed. ‘Drunk needing rehab’ Tony was an easy routine to slip into. He’d done it so many times before, not as a routine. “Some personal shit happened. I started drinking again. The rest is a sordid repeat of my past history. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

“It’s okay Mr. Stark. Really. I understand.” Peter hesitated. “May had… problems… after Ben died.”

“Oh god kid… I didn’t mean to make you think of all that again.”

“It’s okay,” Peter repeated. “She got better. You will too.”

“Thanks kid. Seriously though… talk to Happy, okay? Or talk to Karen who can link you to talk to FRIDAY. If it’s superhero stuff, Rhodey can help you out. Just… keep it to our family, okay?”

“Sure, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony could hear the smile and excitement in his voice as a reaction to his saying ‘family’. But they were… the only family he had. Pepper too, but right now that was… complicated. Too complicated for Peter to have to deal with on top of everything else.

“Gotta go, Pete. Still got a few more calls to make, but I wanted you to be the first of them. Wanted to let you know first that… It’ll be okay and I’m sorry it looked like I was blowing you off. We good kid?”

“Good Mr. Stark. I… hope everything works out for you. That you’re all right.”

“I will be. Everything works out eventually.”

He next called Pepper and played the same story. That was harder because she’d been through that before with him. Anger was obvious in her voice. No sympathy or understanding at all. It wasn’t true that he’d gone on a bender and fucked himself up, but he would’ve liked to have thought that if he had, she’d give a damn. She didn’t. Oh well. It wasn’t like he’d be trying to ever get back together with her again. He locked that door the minute she walked out of it.

He called the airport and had rent-a-pilots scheduled for the trip to his South Pacific island and the trip back. No flight stewards. He had an agency send new staff to the island house, not his usual people. He made sure _ everyone _ signed air tight NDAs and agreed to have no electronic devices. He arranged for the house to be readied and stocked with food and essentials. All to be done immediately. The flight time was almost a full day… which Tony was sure wouldn’t count towards the ‘two weeks’ even if shit started on the plane. So there was time for everything to be readied. 

He packed lightly. Clothes for the flight there if the ones he was wearing on it got ruined. Clothes for the return flight. T-shirts, boxers, and jeans, that he might or might not be allowed to wear once they landed. And he sent the Mark XLV to the island, programmed to lock itself away in an outside shed. He wouldn’t call it to save himself, but he might need it to even make it back on the flight. Two supersoldiers not pulling their strength for two weeks? He doubted he’d be much more than barely alive. The suit had FRIDAY who could monitor his body and the suit would stabilize anything broken. He’d make it home no matter what Barnes and Rogers did to him.

“FRIDAY, make sure the first aid kit is stocked. Sutures, the stuff that’s been working on my face, pain meds, anesthetic. Fridge, water, and liquor cabinet filled. Then set full lockdown protocols on my floors until I remove them.”

It was late at night when he called Helen Cho at Avengers HQ. 

“I need to know something,” he said when she sleepily said hello. “Something medical. Not just me being a pain in your ass. This is important.”

“What is it, Mr. Stark?” Helen asked, suddenly sounding awake.

“I know you’re a research physician, but you’re also a physician physician. I’m gonna need one of those. I… can’t trust anyone else with this. I know you already. But I need you to give me  _ complete  _ discretion.”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality is a standard I adhere to. Anything you tell me stays between us.”

“I’d need it to be only you, Helen. No nurses, no assistants, no… anybody else. No log of any treatment. And…” Tony hesitated. “No judgment or questions about my injuries. Not how I got them. Not who gave them to me. No questions at all. Just treat them, leave, and never tell anyone about it.”

“Where are you, Tony?” she asked, worried. “Do you need me right now?”

“I’m home. I’m fine. You’ll hear stories about me being in rehab after a relapse. That’s a cover story. I can take care of a lot of my injuries myself… but I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“What’s  _ going  _ to happen?” she asked. “Are you  _ planning _ to get hurt? To hurt yourself?”

“Not hurt myself. That’s not a risk no matter what happens. I’m… going away for two weeks. When I come back I’ll need medical care. But…” Tony closed his eyes and hesitated. “It’s going to be extremely personal. Discretion, no judgment, and no questions. Or I’ll deal with all of it myself, no matter what it is. Are you comfortable with that?”

“I’m worried about you, Tony.”

“I’ll be okay. But when I come home in two weeks — maybe a few days more, certainly not any less — I’ll probably be… injured. I’ll call you, or have someone call you, when the jet’s about to land. Meet me at the airport. Come in a van with a stretcher, fully equipped. Happy will drive you, no one else.”

“I’m comfortable with your requirements. Even no questions asked.”

“Thanks, Helen,” Tony’s sigh of relief was audible.

“I’m still worried, but I’ll be here when you need me.”

Tony took a sleeping tablet chased with two fingers of scotch, and texted Steve. _**LaGuardia. Noon. Cover - relapse, going to rehab. Discrete staff with NDAs. No one will know what Captain America is really like. House stocked and ready. Nothing done on the jet that leaves me unable to handle official requirements at stopovers.**_

Tony promptly threw up and had to retake his sleeping pill.


	7. Whoeverthefuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> He tied one of the skimpy aprons on — promising to himself to make sure that the flight attendants would have better, and less sexist, uniforms once he returned to his world — and served the two men their food. He was groped, the way he remembered drunkenly groping his stewardesses back in the day.

Barnes and Steve were pacing at the foot of the plane’s stairs on the red carpet when Tony showed up at around two in the afternoon.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Stark,” Steve hissed as they went up the stairs.

Tony shrugged. “I’m gonna pay for all of it, so who gives a fuck.”

Steve frowned. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m sure the fuck not sober. Add it to the punishment list.” 

Tony stood up and greeted the pilots, requesting that they not come out of the cockpit until they made their first stopover. It was equipped with its own restroom. Food and drink had been left for them in a hamper. It was an odd request, but that’s what he was paying a premium for. 

“We’re good until London. About six hours. Then it’s about twelve hours to Kuala Lumpur. After that a short two-ish hours to my island. I’ll have to handle things at every step along the way, even once we’ve landed, so no facial marks or leaving me in a state where I can’t handle it or the plane won’t be allowed to continue.” Tony stripped out of his suit, folding it neatly. “Just so we’re clear, the flight is a day long each way. You have twelve on the island.”

Steve laughed. “No, we have fourteen. We can’t do what we want to you on the plane. So those days don’t count.”

Tony shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” He went to the bar. “Mind?” he asked, lifting a bottle of two thousand dollar Macallan.

“You can pour us one,” Bucky said. “You get to drink something else,” he added, taking his cock out of his pants and stroking it until it was hard.

Tony sighed. “Yes sir,” he said, pouring and setting the glasses down on the table. It had begun.

He sucked both Barnes and Steve off, both men coming when they were shoved deep down his throat, sparing his face the mess, if not his stomach of the revolt. They poked and prodded the bruises on his hips and ass, all still lurid and sensitive, pleased to see they hadn’t healed as well as the one on his face.

“You gave the pilots food, brought some for us?” Steve asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Go put on one of your stewardess’ little aprons and serve it, prissy.”

Nothing was bad yet. Tony knew it was just a case of anticipating the worse things to come. But in the jet’s kitchen he was shaking as he plated the in-flight meals. He tied one of the skimpy aprons on — promising to himself to make sure that the flight attendants would have better, and less sexist, uniforms once he returned to his world — and served the two men their food. He was groped, the way he remembered drunkenly groping his stewardesses back in the day. Only it was worse because he was naked and they were able to put fingers and hands places he never would’ve touched any of those girls unless they wanted to join him in bed. 

After they ate (and he didn’t) he cleared the mess. When he returned to the cabin, Barnes bent him over the table and held him in place with his metal hand. Steve fucked him first, granting his cock just enough lube to keep him from chafing, not enough for Tony’s comfort. Bucky timed him to see how long he could be in Tony’s ass before he came. Tony tried working his muscles to milk Steve’s cock to make him come faster. That just earned him a smack on his already-bruised ass and told to stop being a greedy faggot. It was thirty-five minutes before he pumped his load into Tony’s bowels. At least Barnes’ way was more slicked. Thirty-seven minutes later, his ass was filled again.

“Goddammit Buck, you don’t always have to beat me,” Steve groused. “Got any beer on this flight, honey?” Steve smacked his ass as their come ran down his thighs. “Or just that expensive shit you like to drink.”

“Make it two, princess,” Bucky added.

They each had three beers and weren’t even buzzed. Supersoldiers took a lot to get drunk. Tony licked the come off of their cocks, but wasn’t allowed to suck them off again yet. They had him bend, legs spread wide, over the table opposite theirs so they could see his ass gape and the come keep running out of his hole. Nothing bad is going to happen on the jet, Tony told himself. Just deal and save your mental endurance for when we hit the island.

Before they began their descent into Heathrow, he was allowed to redress in his suit, come dried on his legs, and pretend to be Tony Stark again. It made it easier for him to divide things like that. There was Tony Stark, and there was Whoeverthefuck(this is happening to, was what had finished that name he created when he needed it the first time.) Tony Stark would be fine. Whoeverthefuck would be packed away. Same as he packed Whoeverthefuck away after he thought it was fun to _ go to _ parties instead of hosting them, splurging with Howard’s money and making sure the hired undercover security kept him safe. Same as he packed Whoeverthefuck away before that. He learned how to compartmentalize when he was very young. He’d only gotten better over the years. 

The London pilots were none too thrilled about their cockpit confinement for an over twelve hour flight, but Tony doubled their salary and the complaints stopped. Tony folded himself away with his suit and — he knew how the sex slave game was played, unfortunately — he knelt on the floor, on his haunches, between the two men.

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve done this for others?”

“No sir.”

He chuckled. “You did it_ to _ others. A faggot pretending that he was a Dom.”

“Huh?” Bucky asked.

“Kinky shit. People pretending to be slaves, getting smacked with paddles, tied up, all make believe with safe words and code phrases. I picked up a fag outside a leather bar once. He pulled that ‘stop light’ shit on me, bellowing ‘red’ ‘red’ when I started smacking him around a bit and telling him what a piece of shit he was.”

“Huh?” Bucky asked again. “I get the kinky shit, but… stop light?”

“Yeah, they like to make you stop what you’re doing if they say certain colors. It’s all playacting for them,” Steve said derisively

“What did you do when he said red?”

“I shredded his pants, fucked him, and kicked him out half naked into the street.”

Bucky nodded like that was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. When Tony had played, he played loosely by the rules. He was rough, and he might ignore a yellow, but red always stopped him. And there was always aftercare. He almost chuckled wryly at trying to explain _ that _ concept to these two. He knew that there would be no safe word for him and aftercare would be _ maybe _ being allowed to wash the come off of himself.

Steve flopped his cock out. It was soft. And Tony really _ really _ wished he knew a LOT less about sex and sceneplay. 

“Get over here and put your mouth on my dick.” When he’d crawled between Steve’s legs, the man pulled his hair, jerking his head back until he was looking in the man’s face. “Swallow.”

“Yes sir.” Tony sealed his lips just behind the head of Steve’s cock. It didn’t surprise him that what he was expected to swallow was Steve’s piss. He swallowed as fast as he could and only a little seeped out. This was something he enjoyed doing to some of his partners, and that his partners enjoyed doing with him or he never would’ve done it in the first place. It might be an alien concept to Rogers and Barnes, but Tony wasn’t into non-consensual non-consent, aka rape.

Bucky smirked when he realized what Steve was doing. “When’d you get kinky, Steven?”

He pulled his cock out of Tony’s mouth and tapped it on Tony’s waiting tongue. “I had a few years before you turned up. The internet is a revelation. I’d always… drawn private things.”

“Your pin-ups were hot items,” Bucky confirmed.

“But there were drawings I never even showed you. I tore them up as soon as I drew them. Though they were mostly of girls. Girls are too fragile and fags are more willing to do _ anything _ as long as you let them suck your dick.” Steve nudged Tony with his boot, encouraging him to go kneel between Barnes’ legs. “I’ve always been kinky I guess.”

“Still thirsty, faggot?” Bucky asked, taking out his cock.

“Yes sir.” Tony took Barnes’ cock in his mouth the same way he had Steve’s. Now that he knew what he was doing from this end rather than the other, less of Barnes’ piss leaked out.

“You got a bedroom on here?” Steve asked.

“Yes sir.”

“God everything around you is so fuckin’ _ pretty. _ You’re a prissy little fag,” Bucky said. He picked at the edge of the Stark crest on the wall. “He’s got this shit, like he’s nobility or something. You nobility?”

“No sir. Howard thought it looked impressive, so he bought it from the College of Heralds in England.”

“Is anything about you real, Stark?” Bucky scoffed.

“He’s a real faggot, that’s real. Cock-stupid and willing to agree to something like this. Not much of a genius.” Tony gritted his teeth. If he objected, Steve might start threatening Peter again. “Show us the bed.” Tony started to walk to the back of the plane. “Nuh uh. Crawl.”


	8. Howard Taught You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> _Words drunkenly slurred, ‘You wanna get fucked like a little girl? I fuck lots of girls’. Hearing that belt buckle jangle loose. The zipper pull. A little spit on the hand. His own endless begging for him not to do it. The pain his twelve year old body felt because the man was much bigger than his classmate._

Hands and knees on rough carpet, Tony crawled to the bedroom and climbed into the queen bed, putting himself on all fours. Bucky pushed his chest flat to the mattress and pulled on his hips, raising his ass more. Tony’s cock hung limply between his legs.

“Wanna show you something, Steve,” he said, getting behind Tony. “Pass me the lube.” 

Bucky lubed up his fingers and pushed all three of them up Tony’s ass at once. Tony gave a small scream. It wasn’t as bad as getting fucked, that always happened with either of them bottoming out in the first thrust, making him scream loudly whether he wanted to or not. It was a body response to pain. Bucky twisted his fingers inside his hole. Then he held them still, just crooking them, looking for Tony’s prostate. Tony tried to bite back a moan of pleasure. When Barnes kept doing it, there was no stopping his gasps and moans.

“Look at his dick. Getting hard. I can make him come like this.”

“Eh, why?” Steve asked.

“I won’t make him come like this though. This is just to get him hard.”

And it did. After a few more times of him stroking his prostate, Tony was fully hard and dripping onto the sheet. When Bucky pulled his fingers out, he whimpered at the loss of stimulation. And hated himself for doing it.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Stark?”

“Yes sir,” Tony answered obediently. The pleasure part of their game was obviously over.

Bucky gave Tony’s cock a few strokes before entering hard and fucking fast. Tony didn’t scream that time but he did groan and gasp and make something that was a gurgled, pathetic, half scream. His cock started to go down. After a bit of Barnes solidly and steadily fucking him, Tony winced when he felt his cock start to get hard again from it. When he wanted to get fucked, he always liked a big dick. It’s why he went with Steve in the first place. And he was responding to getting fucked by Barnes’ big cock. He was doing it in just the right way, setting a steady rhythm, long strokes that made Tony feel the parting and full sensations each time. Hands relatively gentle on his hips, pulling Tony back to meet his thrusts. Tony fell to panting fast. “Oh god,” he moaned. 

Steve chuckled from his place sitting at the bottom of the bed, watching Barnes fuck Tony. “Such a fucking fag, Stark. We’re headed to fourteen days of straight up raping and abusing you and you get hard for it. I told you you’d be begging and thanking us for it before the end. I just didn’t think it’d be before we even got there.”

“Not… begging…” Tony panted his words punctuated by little whines.

Bucky huffed a laugh and angled his stroke downward, pressing on the top of his cock as he did, pushing it to drag across Tony’s prostate. He slowed his pace a little and he repeated the move over and over. Tony was a whining, whimpering, panting mess. His mouth gaped open, he drooled onto the mattress, and he was pushed himself back, desperately seeking more pleasure. His cock was throbbing and leaking. Once Tony was thoroughly gone for it, Bucky increased his pace, still dragging against Tony’s prostate. He pulled back and was thrusting deep when the head of his cock hit his prostate directly.

“Oh fuck yes!” Tony moaned. He winced as soon as he realized what he said. Bucky was slightly less successful on his next stroke, but the third hit it again. Tony fell to panting and moaning his words, broken with high pitched needy whimpers. “Oh… god.” Tony groaned and pushed back onto Bucky’s cock. Barnes managed to hit it almost every time he thrust in. “Yes… yes… oh fuck… that… oh my god there… fuck… fuck… _ please… _ oh god yes!… feels… _ good… _fuck me… fuck me… I’m so close…”

“You want me to make you come faggot?” Bucky asked, still thrusting and aiming. 

“Yes… sir… oh fuck…”

“You know what to say.”

_ “Please… please sir… oh god… please let me come… it fuckin’ hurts I need it so bad… PLEASE!” _ Bucky was keeping him right on the edge of release. His body was tense and twitching. His cries louder.

“What are you? Let me hear it and I’ll make you come.”

_ “Please sir… I’m… I’m a fuckin’ faggot…” _ Tony winced as he whimpered but when he said it Bucky’s thrust spiked the pleasure. _ “A fuckin’ queer… who… needs a dick… up his ass… it‘s all I want… please sir… please… so close… oh!… fuck me please! Oh god yes!” _Tony cried out as his cock pulsed and he came beneath himself. 

He heard both men laughing at him. His cheeks burned hot and he buried his face against the mattress. He stopped pushing back and just held still as Bucky fucked into him sharply and painfully while he was all over-sensitive. Barnes started to pull all the way out on every thrust, holding it a beat before pushing back in and seating himself hard to the base. Every thrust wrested a cry of pain from Tony. The beats between entries grew longer, giving his ass just enough time to relax from the removal of the intrusion before it came again. 

“Feels so good each time you bust a faggot open,” Bucky grunted. “Their fuckin’ fag cunt just loves a big dick. Practically sucks you in.” He parted Tony again. “Did you like me fucking you, bitch?”

“Yes sir,” Tony said between painful groans. 

He knew what they wanted to hear. The shame burned hard within him because it was true. “I’m a faggot who likes getting fucked by a big dick. Always have been. A big dick and a hard fuck makes me come. I’m a fag.” The truth of it… remembering the impact words like that once had on him… the shame… the guilt… and the pain that followed the words… just like now. 

> _Words drunkenly slurred, ‘You wanna get fucked like a little girl? I fuck lots of girls’. Hearing that belt buckle jangle loose. The zipper pull. A little spit on the hand. His own endless begging for him not to do it. The pain his twelve year old body felt because the man was much bigger than his classmate. Even while he was being hurt for it, he remembered the older boy with desire. The boy had been tender, sweet. His words were loving as he did to please what the man was doing to hurt. But he lied to the man over and over about how sorry he was that he’d wanted the boy to do that to him. Admitted that he knew he was nothing but a disappointment, a failure, a queer, a _ faggot. _ His brain hunted for the right words to say that would make the man stop. None did. Finally he could do nothing but scream. Nothing but cry. Big wet tears rolling over his face. He watched them splash onto the hardwood floor. The man didn’t stop no matter how much he cried. Crying brought a slap. Slaps became punches. The man told him not to cry, even though he was a sissy and sissies always cried. The man went on forever. Unbearable pain to his body, unbearable pain to his soul. The man grunting… just like Barnes was doing… the heat of come filling him… just like Barnes’ was. The disgusted words spat because he couldn’t stop crying… just like… he was crying now. _

“Fuckin’ disgusting sissy,” Steve said as come ran down his already crusted and sticky thighs.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir. I’m sorry sir. I’m sorry sir.” Tony was trying to sniffle back his tears, to stop crying like a sissy.

“Sorry?” Steve said with sudden curiosity. “Why are you sorry?”

“For wanting to get fucked like a girl.” Tony’s eyes were unfocused and stung with tears.

“You’re not hearing _ me _ are you,” Steve said. 

Steve snorted a laugh. “Howard and I used to joke about the fags in the army. Tease them for being limp-wristed worthless shames to their families. Wondering why they didn’t do the honorable thing and kill themselves.” 

Bucky got off the bed from behind Tony. He sat on a chair and watched as Steve took his place. “Howard **_hated you_**_.” _Steve entered Tony with nothing more than Bucky’s come to slick his way. He started thrusting hard. “Not surprised he **_raped you_** when he found out he’d had one of those disgusting **_things_** for a son.” He slapped Tony’s ass hard. Steve leaned forward and clocked him on the back of his head with his fist. Tony’s head spun and it made his mind blur memory and present. “God I bet you made him want to **_vomit_**_._ To think his _legacy_ was a pathetic fucking fag. What an insult to _any _man. Much less one like Howard. The last thing he deserved was having a filthy dick-hungry fag for a son. Did you like it when your own dad fucked you?”

Tony’s tears turned into shaking sobs. “Yes sir,” he gulped out. “It hurt. God it hurt so bad.”

Steve laughed. “No wonder you came when I gave it to you rough and used you like the pathetic fag that you are. You _ know _ what you are. ** _Howard _ ** _ taught you _what you are.” Steve kept fucking into him, harder now, more painfully now, grabbing his hips in his hands, leaving new bruises on old unhealed ones. “Did he fuck you more than once?”

“Yes sir,” Tony sobbed. 

“How?”

“When I was… home… on breaks… he’d get… oh god… he’d get drunk and… he’d… remember what I was. In my room…”

“Bet he hurt you every time.” Steve landed a punch on his back over his ribs. Pulled, not hard enough to break bones, hard enough to hurt and bruise. He pulled out and entered repeatedly like Bucky had done, making Tony cry out. “Bet he told you not to do that so your mom wouldn’t hear.” Tony turned his face to muffle his cries into the mattress. “I feel so sorry for Howard. _ Having _ to rape his son every time you were near him because he was so disgusted by you. You wanted to be a fag and he was teaching you what a fag was _ for.” _

Bucky chuckled. “Raped by daddy. And the little bitch liked it.” Bucky leaned forward and grabbed Tony by the hair, turning his head to look at him. “Once you got used to the pain of it, you got hard, didn’t you faggot? Once you got more used to it, you _ craved _your dad’s big dick up your cunt. You came, didn’t you, while your own father filled your sissy pussy.”

Tony sobbed. “Yes sir. He… over the first… summer break _ after… _he did it… a lot…”

Bucky smirked. “Say it.”

“I came.”

Bucky let go of Tony’s head with a little push. “God fags are disgusting. Every damn one of them eventually comes from their own rape, they’re so hungry to have a real man’s cock up their ass.”


	9. The Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> He knew he’d be spending two weeks with Steve and Barnes. He never knew there’d be a third party along for the ride.

“This faggot came untouched while I was raping his throat,” Steve said, still steadily fucking into Tony, leisurely, casually. Tony was just a hole to rock into for as long as Steve felt like it. Even if that was for an hour. “He didn’t put a hand on his dick while I pumped his stomach full of my load. Damn near made him pass out choking on my dick and he fucking _ came.” _

Steve punctuated his disgust with hard, sharp snaps of his hips. Tony groaned loudly. He hated that it felt good. He wasn’t going to be able to come again, or even get hard. He wasn’t a supersoldier. Best he could do is two, maybe three times over a long night. 

But Steve’s cock felt good. Worse, Steve’s _ words _ felt good. He was whimpering and pushing back and moaning and gasping and writhing. But not begging. Not unless he was ordered to. And he hadn’t been. So he didn’t. He kept those words inside himself. Inside Whoeverthefuck and not inside Tony Stark. Whoeverthefuck could be… a faggot whore who wanted to be hurt because of how ashamed he was of his desire for another man. Even though his desire, now, was to fuck other men rather than be fucked. All fags secretly want a big dick up their ass, right? And Whoeverthefuck went out and found the prick Steve Rogers who would fuck him and hurt him and humiliate the way he deserved to be fucked and hurt and humiliated.

Then, when it was over, and he’d gotten the pain he was addicted to, he could be Tony Stark again.

He wasn’t hard but his cock was definitely plumping up. He wouldn’t be able to come, he knew that, but he needed more. His whimpers turned to un-ordered pleas. “Please sir,” Tony whined. “Oh god _ Steve… _ ** _please _ **fuck me harder.”

Steve laughed. “I’m not here to make _ you _ feel good, faggot. I’m here to dump my load in your hole. I’ll fuck you however I _ want _ to fuck you and you’ll take it however I want to give it.”

“Yes sir,” Tony whimpered, denied. He stilled his hips and quieted his sounds and made himself nothing but a hole for Steve to please himself with.

“Fuck, we’re not even on the island yet and the fag whore’s broken,” Bucky said derisively. “This is going to be fun.” 

Bucky stripped and climbed onto the bed, settling at the head of it. He pumped his cock a few times, and smacked Tony’s face with it. Tony opened his mouth but Bucky slapped his face with his cock several more times. “You beg pretty, Stark. Beg me for it. You know what I want to hear.”

“No!” Tony growled, finding his voice. 

“No?” Bucky questioned with a raised eyebrow. He nodded to Steve who pulled out. He dragged Tony off the bed and threw him on the floor.

“Spare the face and hands,” Steve said. “We need him presentable until the island.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Barnes said in a flat, dead tone with a slight Russian accent.

Fear ran cold in Tony’s blood. He realized he wasn’t dealing with Bucky Barnes anymore, but the Winter Soldier. 

“You never tell a man no, _ petuh.” _ The voice was still dead, more heavily accented Russian, and louder. 

Then the pain began. Kicks, punches with both flesh and metal hand, all designed to hurt, but not to break. The Winter Soldier wasn’t a crude instrument like Captain America. He knew every nerve point, every vulnerability in the human body. He knew just how to attack them in such a way as to leave Tony still capable of performing the duties he needed to. Tony’s screams were impossibly loud.

Steve barked a laugh. “Be back in a minute, Winter. Have fun.” He walked up to the cockpit and knocked on the door. He rolled his eyes when the pilots looked at him questioningly. “Mr. Stark likes his movies as ear splittingly loud as his music. I’m sorry. Don’t pay it any attention. There’s no convincing him otherwise.” That seemed to placate the men. Steve shut the door and returned to the back bedroom, where Tony was writhing and screaming and begging for the pain to stop. Steve sat and watched Winter work. Winter was someone Bucky could bring out at will since Wakanda. The assassin was under his complete control. And he remembered every skill he’d been taught. 

When the Winter Soldier was finished with him, Tony wasn’t capable of controlling his body. He couldn’t stand or move his arms or shift his position from where he lay spread on the floor. He’d lost control of his bladder and bowels and stomach. He was beyond tears, beyond screams, though his eyes burned with them and his mouth gaped open silently. 

Bucky shifted back, putting Winter away. He bent down to the floor and whispered in Tony’s ear. “Clean up. Come out when you’re ready to tell me what I want to hear.”

He and Steve went to the cabin, shutting the bedroom door and leaving Tony immobile in his filth.

Tony had known pain before. He had open heart surgery without anesthesia. He’d been tortured, choking under water, being electrically shocked, and feeling his heart stutter, stop, and restart. He’d nearly drowned under the wreckage of his house. He’d nearly died of palladium poisoning. The ‘man in a can’ had been beaten and bruised inside of it. 

Tony had known fear before. Fear of Howard. Fear of waking to a hole in his chest. Fear of being murdered. Fear of flying into a wormhole and then falling back out of it. Fear of freezing to death, alone in Siberia. 

None of that pain or fear came close to what he’d just experienced. His tears recovered first, flowing down the side of his face. Then his scream, ringing out endlessly in the small bedroom. When his body began to return, every nerve was excruciating. His screams somehow became louder. He twitched uncontrollably. Realization of what he was lying in came to him and his stomach emptied what little was left. 

He had no idea how much time was passing, only that it was long. Not ‘feels like long’, but _ long_. Tony’s undamaged hands came back under his own control. He could move them. He could turn his head to the side. His arms… not quite yet but soon. His legs were still quite a while off. But he could stop screaming. The pain… either lessened or he’d become used to it. The tears still flowed. Not from his torture, but from what he knew he’d have to do to save himself from undergoing it again and again until he did what Barnes wanted. He’d said the words before and it nearly killed him to do it. He refused to say them again, willing to take the beating he thought would be coming for his refusal. But the Winter Soldier could torture him for hours and never leave a bruise, never break a bone, never leave him inaccessible to his and Steve’s sexual and humiliating desires.

Tony thought he was only in for two weeks of rape. Maybe a few beatings. This… he had no concept of. There was no resisting this. No hiding himself away. No enduring it. There was only doing what he’d been ordered to do or more pain. He knew he’d be spending two weeks with Steve and Barnes. He never knew there’d be a third party along for the ride.

When his entire body was under his control, he gingerly stood, holding on to counters and chairs and walls along his way, and he showered. Tony scrubbed his body until it was bright pink. He aimed the shower head up his ass. The water stung, but he turned the heat up higher and scrubbed, trying to get filth and come off of him there. But it was like Lady Macbeth. The humiliation and pain wouldn’t come clean. He scrubbed everywhere. He brushed his teeth and used mouthwash, gargling and even swallowing some. He remembered it was made of alcohol. He drained the entire bottle and dug in the cabinet for more until he’d emptied all of them. He hoped it wouldn’t come up when Barnes raped his mouth (after he said what the man wanted him to), but it was worth the try. 

He’d wait a few minutes before going out, giving it time to hit his bloodstream. Besides, he’d been told to ‘clean up’ not just clean himself up. That probably meant the floor as well. There weren’t any stewardesses to clean it, and sure as hell Barnes or Rogers weren’t going to do it. Tony found a bucket and mixed some soap and water in it. He sprayed some of his cologne on a small towel and held it to his nose and mouth as he scrubbed the floor. 

The alcoholic mouthwash stayed in his stomach and by the time he was finished, he had a tiny bit of a buzz on. Not enough, but there was nothing more… Wait! He always kept a bottle… And there it was. In his secret hiding place. It wasn’t the good stuff, and it was vodka not scotch. An alcoholic’s drink of choice when he didn’t want his breath to smell too bad. He downed a good half of the bottle then brushed his teeth again, eating a small dab of toothpaste to chase the liquor scent away. 

He changed the bed linens. Straightened up the bathroom. Picked up every little thing he could think of to delay the inevitable. He looked at the clock and gave himself another fifteen minutes. By then he was past lightly buzzed to lightly drunk. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice or if they did, they wouldn’t care. He hid the rest of the bottle away. He knew he’d need it later. He also found one of his phones (he had dozens of them hidden away, or just forgotten) and texted the staff at the island house, directing them to hide at least two dozen bottles of vodka in various places in the main living quarters.

He checked the clock again. Fifteen minutes up. Nine hours left to this leg of the flight. Three to the last. Eternity. Especially now that he knew Winter was along for the ride. He tried to throw another layer of armor to protect Tony Stark from when Whoeverthefuck had to say those words.


	10. Your Princess Is Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “No wonder her last word was ‘Howard’ and not your name. She probably _knew._ Dying was preferable to having a faggot for a son. She didn’t even _think_ about you before I killed her…,” Barnes reached down and wrapped his flesh hand around Tony’s throat, “with THIS hand.”

Submission would be appreciated, so he crawled out of the bedroom into the cabin. “Everything has been cleaned, sir.” He knelt between Barnes’ legs.

“And?” Barnes said, nudging a bruise on leg with the toe of his boot.

“Please Sergeant Barnes, would you choke me with your cock?” Tony could say the words but his voice was as dead as Winter’s voice had been. “Please sir, I want you to choke…” Tony closed his eyes, only to have his head yanked up.

“Look at me, fag,” Barnes growled. “And_ beg.” _

Tony met Bucky’s gaze. “Please, _ please, _ sir. Please choke me with your dick to where I can’t breathe. Choke me please…” He didn’t break his gaze but he faltered, swallowing hard. “Choke me like you choked my mother to death. Please, sir. I’m begging you to do it. Please sir. Fuck my face, please, and gag me so bad, _ please!, _ please choke me so I can feel what it was like when you choked the life out of my mom. Please Sergeant Barnes, _ please! _ She would’ve been so disappointed if she knew that her son was a faggot and was going to burn in hell. I deserve to be choked on dick. Please sir, it’s what filthy fags do. I… exist to please real men with my holes.” Tony kept hoping that Barnes would relent and just start using him soon. Instead he just smiled coldly down at him while he spoke. “Would you please use me sir? Please choke me?” Tony remembered what Barnes had him say before. “Please gag me on your cock, sir, and then choke me with ** _the same hand that murdered my mom_**_. _ Please, _ please do it!” _

Barnes chuckled and Steve laughed uproariously, clutching his chest. “Better give the faggot what he wants.”

“No wonder her last word was ‘Howard’ and not _ your _ name. She probably _ knew. _ Dying was preferable to having a faggot for a son. She didn’t even _ think _ about you before I killed her…,” Barnes reached down and wrapped his flesh hand around Tony’s throat, “with THIS hand.”

“Yes sir,” he gurgled out around Barnes’ hold. “Thank you for murdering her so she never had to know that her son is a fag. Thank you sir. ** _Thank you for killing my mom_**_.” _ Tony Stark was _ very _ far away now. Nothing was left of him here. “Thank you sir. Please? Please make me hurt for being a faggot disappointment to her.”

Bucky undid his fly and flopped his cock and balls out. “Look at it, faggot,” he growled as he stroked his cock to hardness. “Drool for it.”

Tony tried to fill his mouth with spit and let it drip from his lips. Barnes kept pumping his cock, waiting until Tony’s throat was thick with drool and it was running over his chin. The man ran the head of his cock across his lips, wetting it with it. 

“Open wide, fag.”

Tony opened his mouth as wide as he could. It was over now. Now he could just kneel back and slide into the pain. All he had to do was let his body go lax (easy when you’re half drunk), open his mouth, remember how to open his throat, and wait for Barnes to shoot his load straight down into his stomach. Or on his face. Or wherever he wanted to put it. 

When Barnes pulled back on his hair, he had to stare at the man in the face and watch him gloat. Sometimes when he was as deep down his throat, he’d massage his dick from the outside, squeezing hard until Tony almost passed out. He trusted neither Steve nor Barnes would actually kill him. Not on purpose. And Winter knew how to keep that edge between passing out and death. So he was safe. But a mouth wasn’t designed to be continuously fucked by something as thick as a supersoldier’s cock. His jaw hurt. But Tony kept comparing it to the pain he’d felt at Winter’s hands in the bedroom and it was bearable. If he screamed from it, no one could tell because his mouth was full of dick.

The ride seemed to last forever. But then everything seemed to last forever. Unless Tony was looking at a clock, he had no internal one anymore. Pain short circuited his sense of time. His sense of anything except the pain. Even the humiliation he could hear Steve and Barnes heaping on him were lost behind the roar of blood in his ears. Tony drifted. Not as in drifted to sleep, but as in even Whoeverthefuck was slipping away. Tony Stark was gone. Whoeverthefuck was going. He didn’t know what or who would be left by the end of the flight, certainly by the end of the flight home. He knew his mind would break. He just had to leave a mental trail of breadcrumbs to find his way back. He was a genius. His brain was the smartest one currently alive on the planet. He could do this.

Tony was pushed away, sputtering and choking on the come Barnes had shot directly into his stomach. He caught what spilled out of his mouth in his hand and licked it up. Which earned him more laughter and more abuse. 

“Damn, this is a long fucking flight. Sleep out here on the floor, fag,” Steve said. “I catch you in a chair, you’ll pay.” He and Barnes went into the bedroom and shut the door. 

Tony watched the clock. After thirty minutes, he crawled over to the bar and drank straight from a bottle of vodka until he blacked out.

He woke to the sound of breaking glass, the pain of a shallow cut across his arm, and the sting of alcohol poured into it. His eyes were blurry and his speech slurred. “You didn’t tell me, sir, that I couldn’t drink.”

Steve grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to kneel in front of him. He took his soft cock out of his boxers and let it hang in front of Tony’s face. “This is all you get to drink, faggot. Nothing that we don’t give you.” 

Tony sealed his lips behind the head of Steve’s soft cock and drank his piss, swallowing as fast as he could to keep it from spilling out. He knew the body couldn’t last more than about five days without water, at most a week. He didn’t know how much of that piss and come replaced. He supposed he’d find out.

“Back on the floor, faggot. No drinking. Anything.”

“Yes sir,” he said, his voice still slurred. He watched the clock. Twenty minutes later, Barnes came out and pissed in his mouth. 

Tony must’ve fallen asleep. He felt a hand shake his shoulder gently. “Are you all right, Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark, are you okay? You’re… pretty banged up. Do we need to arrange a doctor in Kuala Lumpur?”

“No,” he said, opening his eyes and seeing one of the pilots. “Get the fuck back in the cockpit and leave me the hell alone.”

The pilot took note of the broken bottle, its remains soaked into the carpet. He went back where he was told and left the famous alcoholic asleep naked in a puddle of booze on the cabin floor.

The next time he woke it was to a prodding kick to his ass. “We’re landing in twenty minutes,” Steve said. “Time for the faggot to put his ‘I’m a man’ costume on.”

“Yes sir.” Tony stood. According to the last time he’d checked the time, he’d gotten almost six hours of sleep. A full night for him. He went into the bathroom, showered quickly, shaved, fixed his hair and dressed. There was nothing to be done about the obvious black and blue hand print on his face, but he was putting on his Tony Stark self for a few minutes and nobody questioned anything about him. He sat in a chair in the cabin. “My suit can’t look like I was sitting on the floor. And the pilots will be changed when we land. I need to look like… Tony,” he said, in the third person. 

“Here and when we land on your island, Stark. Then you’re ours for two weeks. What’s left of you, we’ll pour back into one of your prissy suits and prop you up in the chair if we have to, to do the bare minimum.”

“Yes sir. If I’m… too damaged… you can make everyone think I'm drunk and handle most of it yourself, sir,” he said to Steve.

“Good idea. Because you _ will be _too damaged.” He laughed.

“But you’ll leave him alone sir?” Tony asked, his voice barely a hoarse whisper.

_ “Pretty Precious Peter Parker’s Pussy?” _Steve said in a mocking, disgusted, sing-song voice.

Tony winced but didn’t fight Steve over saying his name. He couldn’t ever fight. Not with the third person in their little entourage. “Yes sir.”

“Yeah Stark. I’ll leave him to get his cherry popped by his old pervert mentor.”

Tony turned to Barnes. “And you sir? _ Both _ of you?”

Bucky smirked. “Jailbait tail never interested me. Winter, he’s fucked anything HYDRA told him to. Even fucked a baby to death once. Split the kid literally in two on my dick. But Winter isn’t HYDRA’s anymore. Your princess is safe, fag.”

Tony shuddered to think of the things that Winter had done over seventy years. “Thank you, sirs.”


	11. Idontgiveafuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> "You think you can fuck with my head?” Tony barked a laugh. “Get in fucking line. Better men than you have tried. I _will_ go back to my tower in the sky and I _will_ be just fine.”

The pilots were changed, the new ones given their orders, same as the last two sets. Paperwork was completed. Security and customs were passed, and the jet took off again for the shortest leg of the flight, directly to Tony’s private island. There, the pilots would fly back to Kuala Lumpur where the jet would be stored until needed for the return flight.

Tony started to undress as soon as the plane took off and leveled out.

“Don’t bother. We won’t be gone long enough and when we get out, the pilots need to see Tony Stark, the pretend man and not Tony Stark the disgusting filthy faggot,” Steve said.

“Yes sir.” It was harder clothed, bridging the gap between identities. He knew who Tony Stark was. He was a constant. That was who he was born as. He knew who Whoeverthefuck was. He was born on Howard’s office floor and pulled out when needed. But this new one… he’d have to come up with a name, distanced from both the others and from the reality of the situation. Idontgiveafuck, sounded good. Because that was the only way he could get by. From this point on, he couldn’t give a fuck what happened to him. Anything so long as at the end of the two weeks, Peter would be safe and it would be over for him. Safe wasn’t something  _ Tony  _ had in a very very VERY long time. He was used to that.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve spoke, matter of factly. “When we land, you instruct all staff to obey us and only us. Never you. I assume you arranged for their silence, not wanting anyone to know what a pussy Iron Man is.”

“And you don’t want anyone to know what a sadistic prick Captain America is, since we’re speaking on ‘down time’. Don’t worry they have full NDAs enforceable world wide, even in China.”

“You’re lucky we are in down time, Stark. The only guarantee of your physical safety is that we will keep you alive. Anything short of death is fair game. It’s sir at all times, but you already know that. You do whatever whenever no matter what. You already learned what happens when you say ‘no’. It gets worse. Winter only scratched the surface of his torture repertoire with you last time. You eat what we say, you drink what we say, you get bodily functions when we say, you sleep when we say. All of them how we say. For two weeks, you’re not even human, Stark. Get that into your head. Faggots aren’t men. Faggots aren’t even human beings. Faggots are worth less than the dog shit on my shoe.”

“Yes sir,” Tony said, even though they were still on ‘down time’.”

“You’re gonna suffer for being an arrogant, egotistical, bastard before I found out what filth was under that mask. You’re going to get hurt. You’re going to get broken. You’re probably not going to be make it off this plane under your own steam. I hope you have medical on call.”

“I do.”

“Dr. Cho?”

“Private physician,” Tony lied.

“You’re going to serve us as well as get fucked by us. We say hop, you say how high sir.”

“Here’s what I need to manage when it’s over.”

“You’re not in a position to make demands, Stark.”

“I know that. Beyond not killing me, you can’t damage any of my body parts beyond what’s able to be healed by conventional measures. No ruptured spleen, no smacking me so hard on the head that I go deaf, no hitting me so hard across my mid-back that I have kidney damage. You might not know, but I’m sure Winter knows exactly what I mean.”

“No demands, Stark. It’s not just your ass on the line,” Steve said.

“I know!” Tony barked. “But this entire thing was designed so that I can return to my life. Physically. Mentally is my problem. Physically is yours.”

Bucky nodded. “I  _ do  _ know what you mean,” he said but with no guarantee. 

Tony hoped that his acknowledgment meant agreement. There wasn’t anything he could do about Winter and whatever  _ he  _ wanted. Steve seemed to be the one taking the lead over Barnes. It was clear that their previous hook-ups were nothing more than hate sex. The man loathed him. He would damage him physically as much as he could. Mentally as well, but Tony could handle that. He’d always handled that. Since Howard. “Any other particulars you want me to know?”

Steve snorted. “You’re a faggot, Stark. When we get there, that’s the only thing your staff is allowed to call you. Faggot. By the end of it, you’ll know just what you are and what you’re good for. Go back to your fucking tower in the sky after that and try to live with yourself.”

“I will.” Tony’s voice turned cold. His stare turned arctic. “Do you think you can do worse mentally to me than getting repeatedly raped by Howard over my summer vacation when I was twelve? I didn’t like him much and he didn’t like me much before that, but he was still supposed to be my father. I loved him. You, I hate. I  _ hate  _ you Rogers. And Barnes, there isn’t a word low enough for what I feel about you. You think you can fuck with my head?” Tony barked a laugh. “Get in fucking line. Better men than you have tried. I  _ will  _ go back to my tower in the sky and I  _ will  _ be just fine.” Tony paused. “And I’d be looking over both your shoulders for the rest of your lives, if I were you. I’m well aware that revenge is a dish best served cold. So… have fun with my body. Do whatever the hell you want. It’ll heal. My mind is mine.”

Winter laughed. It was a very different sound than Barnes’ laughter. “They all say that. They all break.”

It was frightening, but Tony knew it was a lie. Many people had resisted mental torture. They came out damaged, but Tony knew how to be damaged and function and find a livable balance. It might take longer if Winter got more deeply involved than Barnes did. But he would come out of it, box up the damage, and put it on the shelf with all the rest of his pain. Maybe if he wasn’t Tony Stark, Winter’s threat would carry more weight. But that shelf was full of boxes. Tony rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said like the California 80s kid he was.

Tony served them dinner and drinks. After, Steve called him to stand in front of him.

“Take off the tie and unbutton your shirt.” Tony complied. Steve tapped the arc reactor. “Did the shield damage it or just the suit’s glass?”

“You broke it. Left me with it barely functioning enough to keep from going into cardiac arrest. When the Russians found me, I was nearly frozen because the suit couldn’t be powered. It was a choice between powering the suit or powering my heart.”

“How long can you last when it’s completely removed?” Steve asked.

“About ten minutes. Obadiah removed it and I had to crawl into the elevator, down to my lab, and across the floor to get the older model.” He paused, knowing what Steve would do with that information. “I’ll show you how to remove the arc without removing the housing. The housing goes about six inches deep into my chest, past a hole cut into my sternum. If you damage the housing, I will bleed out and die a hell of a lot faster than ten minutes.” He showed Steve and then Barnes how to twist and remove the arc reactor that kept him alive. He let them each inspect it so they’d know how not to damage it. 

Tony handed his heart to the two people he hated most in the world.

And then he put it back into his body with their touch all over it.

That went in the box along with the words Barnes made him speak.

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

Steve ran his hand over Tony’s chest. He pinched his nipples and watched the response. He pulled hard and twisted them painfully, and watched that response too. He poked at the bruises and stroked his hand over Tony’s skin, down his abdomen, along his sides. “You’ll come out of this with permanent scars.”

Tony shrugged. “You can see that I already have plenty,” he said looking down at his chest. “Scars don’t bother me.”

Steve pulled back and punched Tony solidly in the stomach. He bent over gasping for breath. It took him a couple of minutes to recover and stand up straight again. “Not the first time that’s happened to me either,” he said with a shrug. He watched frustrated rage flash in Steve’s blue eyes.

“Won’t be the last during these weeks either,” Steve growled. “On your knees.”

Down time was over, obviously. Tony knelt between Steve’s legs. He watched him unzip and take his soft cock out.

“Hope you’re thirsty, faggot.”

Tony wrapped his lips around Steve’s cock and drank down his piss again. When Steve had finished, Tony looked over at Barnes. “Would you like to relieve yourself, sir?”

Bucky took his cock out. “God, fags are disgusting pigs. Yeah. Get over here so I can piss. Lucky faggot, you get a man’s dick in your mouth.”

Tony crawled over to Barnes. “Thank you sir.” He got another drink. Tony wasn’t much on biology, but he figured piss would be enough to extend the week that people could live without water. And he’d be getting plenty of that. He doubted they’d use a toilet other than his mouth for the next fourteen days. He was already getting good at swallowing fast enough not to dribble out of the corners of his mouth and make a mess.


	12. Líng Hào

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> He wasn’t Tony Stark. He wasn’t Whoeverthefuck. He was Idontgiveafuck. Idontgiveafuck was a cockhungry faggot. Of course he wanted those two hard dicks to rape his faggot holes again.

When the jet landed, they stood on the apron They waited until they watched it take off from the runway. 

“Strip,” Steve ordered before they’d even headed toward the house. 

Tony took his suit off and left it on the ground. Staff would pick it up and clean it. Steve grabbed his hair and dragged him over the cement to the house, scraping up his knees, shins, and feet as he scrambled to follow. When they reached the door, Tony opened it and Steve’s boot connected with his ass and sent him sprawling into the foyer — naked, bruised, battered, and now bleeding, at the feet of the gathered staff waiting to welcome him. He heard shocked gasps and mutterings as twenty-three people looked down at him. He looked over his shoulder at Steve. “Thank you sir.”

He picked himself and knelt up on his bloody knees. He looked up at the staff. None of them were the usual people he hired, thank god. They were all anonymous strangers. Many from China, some from the Philippines, some from Malaysia, others from other Asian countries. All of those countries had laws that would enforce Tony’s NDA. All of those countries had business dealings with Stark Industries that they didn’t want to lose by  _ not _ enforcing Tony’s NDA. So frankly, Tony didn’t give a damn what state these people saw him in. To be honest, it was a little hot.

“During our two week stay,” Tony began, “even though I am the owner, you will not obey anything I ask of you. You will never refer to me as Mr. Stark or Mr. anything. My name to you all is ‘faggot’, that’s how you will address me. My guests are Captain Rogers and…,” he looked back at Bucky, “Do you prefer Mr. or to be addressed by rank, sir?”

“Rank,” Bucky answered.

“Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. They are the masters of the house. And of me,” he added. “You’ll obey their requests and I will obey their orders. You will see me in dangerous and difficult predicaments.” Tony kept his voice level and professional. He had experience running employees, and he channeled that demeanor. Being naked and on his knees didn’t stop him from being able to do it. “I’ll be hurt and injured. You’ll tell no one nor try to get me help, even if I’m begging you to. You will be paid extraordinarily well. Fifty thousand U.S. dollars a piece for two weeks work. In cash, arranged to be tax free in your home countries. At the end of the two weeks, my jet will fly you to Denpasar Airport in Bali. Connecting flights, first class, will take you home from there. Breaking your silence will result in loss of income, and immediate jail time. The agency says you are all discrete. I expect you to be. Thank you. From now on, you will only address Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes.”

Tony turned to Steve. “Is that what you wanted sir?”

“Good enough.”

“Thank you sir,” Tony said. The staff dispersed to their duties, silently. Their gossip, questions, and wonderings would be done amongst themselves, away from their employer and his guests. A man brought in the large suitcases. Barnes directed him to put them in the bedroom, unopened. Tony doubted that more than two of the eight pieces of luggage contained their clothes. The other six? Probably things to torture him with.

He turned on his knees to completely face the pair. And he waited, packing away the persona he just used with the staff. Everything in Tony Stark’s life was compartmentalized. It was perfect. It was beautiful. It was an engineer’s solution to a tricky problem. Functional.

“Buck and me are both dead tired on our feet. That was one hell of a long flight and the nap didn’t make it much better. Take us to the master bedroom. Elbows and knees, ass in the air. Show us your pussy.”

“Yes sir.” Tony dropped down as ordered. It was more difficult than hands and knees and his knees were still a painful scraped mess, but it was a small pain, easily pushed aside. He knew why Steve ordered him into the position as soon as he took it. It raised his ass high and spread his cheeks when he moved, giving them a flash of his asshole. His… pussy. He winced at the word, but with his head nearly down to the floor, at least they couldn’t see his reaction. It took longer to get down the hall to the master suite, but the men were content to follow the slow pace with the view. 

Steve and Bucky started to undress in the bedroom, and Tony went to kneel upright.

“Chest all the way on the floor. Hands behind you, pulling your ass open, show me what a faggot is.” Steve paused. “What is a faggot? What are you?”

Tony considered what would be the most humiliating way he could phrase his answer. “Sir, I’m a pair of holes that men can use to jerk themselves off with. I’m a disgusting sissy who craves a man’s dick and will do anything to earn it. I’m a faggot and faggots are nothing but perverted filth, so I’m perverted filth. I’m sorry you don’t have anything more suitable to use than a worthless fag like me.”

“Creativity,” Barnes said. “I like that. Shower first or sleep first, Steve?”

“Hard choice. Shower. It’s probably big enough for both of us. Is it?”

“Yes sir. We’re decadent creatures, us faggots.”

They went to shower and Tony stayed in position, his ass spread to the air. A Chinese maid came in to provide turndown service. She startled then stared at Tony.

“Mr.” She stopped herself. “Faggot, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’m in the position I was ordered to be in. I’m sorry if it embarrasses you. You  _ will  _ see me in worse. I’m sorry.”

The woman hesitated, still staring, peering around to get a better view of Tony’s exposed hole and his soft cock hanging between his legs. She looked around nervously, checking to see if she was being watched. Then she closed her hand around his cock. She pulled away and giggled. “Faggot doesn’t like women, right?”

“Right, ma’am. I’m sorry. I’m a _ líng hào.” _ Tony had bedded plenty of women, and responded physically to each. But in his current mental state, there was no way he could respond to one now.

She giggled again, surprised that he knew the slang word for bottom. She quickly set about arranging the master bedroom for the two masters, if not owners, of the house. When finished, she looked around again and took Tony’s cock in her hand, laughing quietly as she left the room. 

Tony knew word would spread quickly amongst the staff. Both of what he was, and of the fact that if Steve and Barnes weren’t in the room, they could touch and he wouldn’t do anything about it. The part about the staff seeing, and even touching, appealed to the exhibitionist in Tony. He knew that if nothing else, no matter how bad his state, the staff seeing him  _ in  _ that state was at least a little thrill he could look forward to. 

He knew who each of them were. He knew their addresses and families. And he knew other assassins than Clint and Natasha. They would all be dead soon after their employment ended and never be able to enjoy their pay. Tony had absolutely no moral compunctions about doing it either. Morality was something he put in another box and opened when it was convenient for him to have it. It had been becoming less and less convenient since Afghanistan. Less and less convenient since Siberia. A line that had always in his life been blurry was now pretty much non-existent.

Steve and Barnes came out of the shower naked. “Crawl into the shower,” Barnes ordered. The drain was stopped with a flat plug. Once Tony was kneeling in the shower, both men loosed their streams and drenched him, hair on downward, in piss. The plug kept it from running down the drain. It pooled in the shower pan and stung the open scratches on his knees. “This is where you sleep, Stark,” Barnes said. 

“Piss yourself,” Steve ordered. 

Tony didn’t take his cock in hand, he just let it run from his limp cock down his thighs, and into the shower pan with what Steve and Barnes had put there.

Then Barnes and Steve went to bed in Tony’s giant bed that matched the one in his penthouse.

Tony curled up in the shower pan. There wasn’t any sighs or tears or mental struggle. Only resignation, staring off into space, and waiting (hoping) for sleep to come. He was sure he’d need his strength for the first full day of fourteen more.

During the night, Steve woke to the call of nature and Tony woke to the splash of more hot piss added to his makeshift bed. When dawn was shining through the bathroom skylight, Barnes added more. Then Steve again. Both standing there naked. Tony couldn’t help look at their cocks. Even soft, they were both huge. Their dicks hung well past their low-hanging balls down onto their thighs. Rhodey, when they’d had their fling back at MIT, hadn’t been nearly as big. 

He wanted their hard cocks in him again. He’d learn to stop hating himself for that desire. He wasn’t Tony Stark. He wasn’t Whoeverthefuck. He was Idontgiveafuck. Idontgiveafuck was a cockhungry faggot.  _ Of course  _ he wanted those two hard dicks to rape his faggot holes again.


	13. Tony Stark’s box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**
> 
> * * *
> 
> Tony regretted every scene he’d ever played with a partner. Every one of those scenes were mutually agreed on and mutually hot. It wasn’t the scenes themselves he regretted, it was the knowledge that they gave him.

Steve threw a washcloth into the pool of piss. “Wash yourself with it.” 

They stood and watched as Tony gave himself a bath with the liquid provided. He scrubbed it into his hair like it was shampoo. He rubbed it over his cock and balls. Over the scrapes on his lower legs. 

“Fuck Steve, every time I think a fag can’t sink lower, Stark proves us wrong.”

“Thank you sir,” Tony said. A plastic cup was tossed into the liquid. He knew what to do. He filled it to the top and drank until it was empty. They ordered him to do it again. When he did, the next order was to empty the shower pan. His stomach threatened to revolt, but there was nothing other than piss and come in it by now and he suspected that if it came up, it would only be added to the liquid he had to drink. So Tony fought the urge and continued to drink.

A different maid came in to clean the room, apologizing to the two men that she’d interrupted, saying she’d come back later to do the cleaning. But she lingered in the doorway as she was leaving and saw that Tony was drinking the shower dry. When he’d gotten it so shallow that nothing more could be scooped into the cup. 

Tony regretted every scene he’d ever played with a partner. Every one of those scenes were mutually agreed on and mutually hot. It wasn’t the scenes themselves he regretted, it was the knowledge that they gave him. 

He remembered pissing into a champagne flute for a slender, pretty young man who had begged him for it and happily drank it down. (And he remembered that they agreed to it before the scene began, when he and Tony were negotiating what would happen.) 

This was anything _ but _a shared scene. The only thing negotiated was leaving him alive at the end of things and — the reason he’d agreed — leaving Peter alone.

Tony knew what Barnes and Rogers wanted. He scooted back and bent his head to slurp at what was left pooling over the plug until the entire shower was dry.

“Do you think I’m taking my morning shower in that piss coated thing?” Steve said. “Lick the entire shower bottom clean.” Tony started to do so and the men both left. He heard suitcases open and things being unpacked from them. Tony licked every inch of the shower pan. It was a big shower. It took a long time. One or the other man looked in occasionally to check his progress. 

“I’ve completed the task, sir,” Tony said loudly enough to be heard in the bedroom. 

The men came into the bathroom and got into the shower. “Stay kneeling up, faggot. In the center. Take the plug out.” 

Steve set a small bottle of body wash and one of shampoo on the floor near him and threw a clean washcloth in front of him. Then the shower was turned on. Tony was directly under the rain head. Barnes and Rogers cleaned themselves under other sprays. Tony washed the piss, the dried come, the crusted blood off of himself while kneeling between the two men. 

He opened Tony Stark’s box and let him feel the relief of a hot shower and being clean. His eyes shut and he tried to keep the expression of bliss off his face. When he rinsed his hair, he tilted his head back to keep the soap out of his eyes. The water ran into his mouth. Instinctively, he gulped it down. His head spun from the force of Bucky’s slap. Tony Stark’s box closed quickly. 

“Steve said you drink only what we tell you to.”

“I’m sorry sir. I forgot sir. I’m sorry sir,” Tony said, the words rushing out, hoping to save himself more punishment. The men were satisfied and he finished washing himself quickly. He knew he needed to finish before the men did. The shower would be over for him then, clean or not clean. They were both involved in their own showers. And as long as Tony did nothing to provoke their punishment again, the box opened.

Tony managed to finish getting himself clean before both men did. He was careful not to let any water run into his mouth, no matter how desperately thirsty he was. He wasn’t sure that his expectation that drinking piss would extend his water-deprived life expectancy. He couldn’t remember if it would, or if drinking it would be like drinking seawater and just increase the speed of his dehydration. But he stopped worrying about it. If he didn’t know, if Steve didn’t know, if Bucky didn’t know, _ Winter _ knew. He was guaranteed life. He’d get water before losing that became a risk. Same with food, though he remembered reading that hunger strikers could survive almost a month without it. So in two weeks, he doubted he’d eat. He’d get used to the hunger pains he was feeling. He was sure he’d have so many worse pains to supplant them.

The water cut off and the box closed tightly. As the men dried themselves off, he was tossed a towel. It was warm and soft. While he didn’t dare _open_ the box again to feel the warmth surrounding him, maybe just lifting the lid a little was okay. He looked at Steve and Barnes as he did, watching for when their attention would turn to him and that lid needed to be slammed shut again. Whoeverthefuck didn’t know how to do that, to open and close that quickly. To give brief, sustaining, moments of relief. Idontgiveafuck did. Tony was _ adapting. _

“How does the one percent do an island retreat?” Steve asked. “We’ve seen the master bedroom, what other rooms are there?”

“It’s a small house, sir. Outside, there are three maintenance sheds, a pool house, and two outbuildings for guests, with en suite and small living area with kitchen. There are the the inside staff areas, including their living quarters. In the main house, there’s four guest suites upstairs. On this floor, there’s the living room, formal dining room, breakfast room, sun room, media room, security room, and a gym. Plus there’s a workshop and my office.”

Bucky snorted. “A _ small _ house. What the everlovin’ fuck, Stark?”

“Howard’s house on Long Island was twice this size, sir.”

“Howard _ earned _his fortune. His faggot son just inherited it from him,” Steve said.

Tony lowered his head quickly, hoping neither man saw the anger flash in his eyes. The income _ his _ inventions brought in had surpassed Howard’s before he hit thirty. Howard was still a joke at the same age, trying to hawk flying cars that sank like lead balloons. But _ everyone _ assumed it was Howard’s wealth that made him and Stark Industries what it was. 

“I’m sorry, sir. You’re right. Stark Industries paid for all of this,” he said as a way to say that _ he _had without letting Steve know that’s what he was saying.

“Faggots always take credit for things that better men do. Show us the office where you run Howard’s company while you’re here,” Steve said.

Tony crawled and the men followed. Right before the front entrance, he stopped. “The living room is on the right, sir. The office, with the workshop off of it, is on the left.” 

Steve opened the door. He and Bucky went in first. “You have horrible taste no matter what house you’re in,” he scoffed, taking in the modern design.

“How many secretaries have you taken over your desk, Stark?” Barnes asked.

“Quite a few, sir, but never one who didn’t want it.”

The jab didn’t go unnoticed. Tony was pulled up off his knees and bent over the glossy black desk. “Like they could’ve said no to the head of the company without getting fired,” Steve added, holding Tony down by the back of his neck.

“Many said no, sir. None of them ever lost their jobs. Word got around that I never touched what wasn’t offered.”

Barnes unzipped and stood behind Tony. “Is a faggot’s ass ever not offered?”

“Of course not sir.” Tony spread his legs and balanced on the desk, letting it carry most of his weight. He knew he’d be there for a long time.

Steve took a small bottle of lube out of his pocket and handed it to a surprised Bucky. “I was an Eagle Scout.”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, I remember having to drive up to the campsite and rescue your ass when the tree pollen damn near killed you.” He took the lube and slicked his cock.

“Shut up. I got the badge, that’s all that matters.”

Barnes bottomed out and started fucking. 

Either man’s entry was something that still managed to produce a scream. Tony stopped trying to make it not do so. It was a body response, not under his control, and trying to put it under his control made him tighten, which made the entry worse. So he screamed, which made him relax and made it actually more bearable despite appearances.

Steve and Barnes spent too much time jibing with each other and insulting Tony to notice him drifting up into his head. When they did notice, there was some kind of pain that followed, but they’d get self-satisfied again and Tony would drift again. It was a cycle that brought relief.

Barnes underestimated him. Even Winter underestimated him. Tony knew that even a minute’s relief would help him retain himself. He’d learned how to drift that summer when he was twelve. Howard was too drunk to notice if Tony was present in his body. He was just there to fuck and to randomly hurt and to verbally abuse. Then to come inside Tony and leave. Tony slipped away and let Whoeverthefuck take over his body to do whatever his body decided to do. He wasn’t there to respond, so if he got hard, that was just a physiological response to stimulus. 

He’d read about instinct and self preservation in biology. The first time he got up to change his sheets and found a wet spot under himself he twisted himself up over that. But Whoeverthefuck reminded him of instinct and anatomy again. Anatomy taught him that there was a place inside him that caused pleasure. Friction across that place would cause pleasure. Orgasm was a response to pleasure. 

He’d been asked to leave the room when the rest of his grade-mates had sex-ed (given that he was three years younger than them), but he heard some them arguing about if it was true that when a girl being raped orgasms, it doesn’t mean she enjoyed it. If he came from Howard fucking him, even if he thought it felt good, it didn’t mean he enjoyed it. That was something that Whoeverthefuck would tell Tony over and over as he lay crying in his bed until morning.

It was something that Tony was able to tell himself now. He didn’t even need Idontgiveafuck to prompt him to do it. Better men than these had tried to break him. And failed. He’d lose himself for awhile. He knew it. He was resigned to that. No one could tolerate what was going to happen to him for two solid weeks and not lose themselves. No one could put up with the things that Winter was going to be allowed to do to him without losing themselves. Tony just knew how to come back from it, that was the difference. Every minute of relief he could sneak into Tony’s box would make it that much easier. He could let Idontgiveafuck comfort Tony during those minutes.

And Tony Stark would go back to his tower in the sky.

“Pay attention, Stark!” Tony’s head dented the surface of his desk when Barnes bent over him, pulled his hair back, and slammed it down.

“Yes sir! Sorry sir!”

Barnes laughed. “I’m not going to ruin things on our first day here, so you’re lucky. I have things paced out. Well… not _ me _ exactly,” he said smugly, turning Tony’s head to the side so he could watch him fuck him. _ “He _ knows how much you can take on each day to lead to the desired result.”

Tony heard Barnes zip up. Had he come in him while he was drifted and before his head hit the desk? And he didn’t even realize it? By the relative ease of Steve’s entry, he knew he had. He prepared to let himself drift again once Steve started fucking him. But Barnes sat in his desk chair and took his head gently in his hands, tilting it to where he was looking directly at him.


	14. Like Dot at Coney Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**
> 
> * * *
> 
> “Some men break to pain, some men break to pleasure. All men break.” He looked down at Tony, who was trying to reconcile the two emotions he was struggling between. “Isn’t that right, baby,” Bucky said, in a mockery of his previous tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted early because of the fact that I have no self-restraint. I will TRY not to post the next chapter before Friday-(1/31)-ish. I'm writing as fast as I can!

“No escaping, Tony.” Barnes’ voice was different. Gone was the commanding nature, the mocking tone. “I want you right here with me. Steve told me how hot for it you were the very first time. Shot off like a firecracker, like a school-girl on prom night.” Bucky waited until Steve set a steady pace, long strokes, deep and regular. “You made it so good for him. You always like to please, don’t you, Tony? On top or on the bottom, doesn’t matter. Everyone at the compound showed me your tapes at least once. You like to make your lovers feel good. Turns you on to know that you’re pleasing them. Even when you’re fucking them. It makes you hotter for it.

“Look at me, baby,” Barnes crooned. “That’s right, beautiful. Keep looking at me, Tony.” His voice was seductive. He ran the pad of his thumb lightly over Tony’s bottom lip. “Our boy Steve was a virgin before he joined up. Your father gave him something every lady was dying to have, but he never got a chance to use it on anything but camp followers before he went into the ice. It was nice of you to make him feel good when he hadn’t had as much experience as you or I. You’re a _ very _considerate lover.

“I wasn’t like our Steve, though,” Bucky smiled. “I was a lady’s man, just like you, Tony. They used to fall at my feet just to get me to give them a kiss, baby. I was a _ long _way from being a virgin when I joined up.” He brushed his hand lightly over Tony’s face, cupping his cheek. He watched Tony struggle to keep from leaning into the touch. He succeeded that time and held his head firm.

“Do you remember that computer kid at the compound, Tony? He was one of your hero-worship conquests. He was so sweet on you, Tony. And so understanding when you moved on to the next one who caught your eye.” Soft voice, soft touch. “Y’know what he told me about you, baby?”

“No sir.” Tony was drifting, but in a different direction. A more dangerous direction. Straight into Barnes’ gentle blue eyes.

“He said the sex was great — you’re Tony Stark, sweetheart, of course the sex was great — but, the boy almost literally swooned,” Bucky’s thumb was back on Tony’s lip, tracing along the edges, a touch light, just enough to feel good. “He hadn’t expected you to kiss _ like that.” _

Bucky raised Tony up on the desk until he was balanced on his elbows. He rolled forward in the desk chair until they were closer. He cupped Tony’s cheek again. This time Tony leaned into Bucky’s hand. He slid his hand from Tony’s cheek into his hair, not pulling, his fingers rubbing lightly against his scalp. Bucky brought them together, lips just barely not touching. 

_ “Like this,” _ he said, and gave Tony a deep, passionate kiss. Like Dot at Coney Island. Tony’s eyes closed, thick dark lashes resting lightly on his cheeks. Bucky broke the kiss so they could both breathe, then kissed Tony again. And again. And again. 

Tony was whimpering into Barnes’ mouth. His hips pushed back against Steve and ground against him when he was buried all the way in. His cock was hard and dripping precome. He gasped and Barnes caught his mouth for another kiss. The man’s hand caressed over Tony’s shoulder and down his back.

“You kiss so sweet, Tony. Your lips are so soft.” He licked across Tony’s bottom lip again. “He said you liked kissing. But baby, I know you like _ being _ kissed. Gets tiring always doing the wanting.” He moved his lips from Tony’s and lightly kissed over the man’s closed eyelids. “Makes you want to know what it’s like to be wanted, beautiful. You are, y’know. Beautiful. Kinda hard not to notice your absolutely beautiful eyes. They make me want to kiss you again. C’mon baby,” Bucky whispered against Tony’s lips. He kissed him again. “All you have to do is come for Steve like you did that first time. Then baby, I’ll kiss you _ all _ you want. All we _ both _ want.”

Tony felt someone far away trying to tell him that this wasn’t what it felt like. But it felt so good. His lips parted and he fell into short, shallow breaths. Whenever his hips ground back, greedily searching for more of Steve’s cock, moaning needily for it, Bucky would kiss him. _ Like that. _“Please,” he whimpered quietly. It wasn’t anything like the demanded pleas that the men usually took from him. His lashes fluttered half open and he looked at Bucky, lips parted again, eager for a kiss.

“You know what you have to do, sweetheart,” Bucky purred. He rubbed his thumb across Tony’s red, swollen lips. “Go on baby. Make yourself feel good.”

Tony kissed Barnes’ thumb, lightly teasing at it with the tip of his tongue. His eyes closed again. He pushed back into Steve’s fucking him until his panting breaths caught, until his body tensed, until he painted the front of his desk with come.

Bucky let go of Tony’s hair and pushed himself away, laughing. “I told you last night before we went to sleep, Steve. You didn’t believe me. Some men break to pain, some men break to pleasure. All men break.” He looked down at Tony, who was trying to reconcile the two emotions he was struggling between. “Isn’t that right, baby,” Bucky said, in a mockery of his previous tone.

Steve’s fucking turned fierce again. After a few minutes, he pulled out. “Ya want my dick again _ Tony?” _He laughed. He didn’t wait to be answered before entering again. “Buck, how the hell did you put up with kissing this fag?” 

“You do what you need to in order to break someone. Russia had a very thorough school of training. Ask Natalia Romanova sometime. Where I armed up before we wiped the floor with this queer in the bunker? Her locker. I was her weapons trainer. Worked with her on a few missions before they sold me to HYDRA.”

“So that was Winter who kissed him?”

Bucky shrugged. “Didn’t really need him just to kiss this fag. His lips are softer than Dot’s were. Probably uses something on them. They use more shit on their faces than cover girls do.” He took Tony’s chin in his hand. “The beard rash wasn’t pleasant though. Gotta shave this prissy shit off of him. Makes him look like someone he isn’t ever going to be again, once we get through with him.” 

Steve kept fucking him. Even staggered and repeatedly entering, Tony tried to leave his body. His head was yanked up again by a metal hand. “Last warning. I _ will _ find the way that works very specifically on you, Stark, to keep you on the wrong side of pain just enough that you can’t do the shit you’re trying to do.” He laughed. “It’s funny how you think you can beat me… and Winter… at this game.”

_ Not your fault, _ Idontgiveafuck told him. _ It’s all right to like kissing other men. It’s not your fault that he used that against you. It’s not your fault. _ It sure the hell _ felt _ his fault. ‘Pleading with sincerity’, Steve told him. By the end of the two weeks. Not before the end of the first goddamn day. Not to _ that _ man.

I’ll listen to you next time, he told Idontgiveafuck. That only happens _ once. _ Now he’s played his hand, it doesn’t happen again. Not to Tony. Only to you. Don’t you _ dare _ let Tony out to feel that ever again. Not until we’re all safely back in our tower in the sky, does Tony get to know what it feels like to kiss. Like anything. Much less _ like that. _


	15. An obscene biblical story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “I’m me unless it’s serious torture of one kind or another. Then it’s Winter. His knowledge? It… bleeds through. I’m me but he’s feeding me the data.” Bucky stepped around in front of Tony and caught his chin to make him look at him. “Isn’t that how it works, Tony?”

That afternoon, Tony was on his hands and knees in the bed, Steve and then Bucky fucking him.

When he was kept to present to be able to go into his head, Tony tried entertaining himself by narrating everything as an obscene biblical story, like the only-slightly-less-obscene ones he remembered from whenever his mom dragged him to Mass. 

** _On the night before the first day, he slept in piss. _ **

** _On the morning of the first day, he was kissed. By Judas._ **

** _On the evening of the first day, a suitcase was opened and its treasures were revealed unto him._ **

The staff served the men dinner. Tony knelt and watched them eat and drink. The meal over, the men searched his house for the perfect place to sink the anchor bolts they took out of the first suitcase. A hall leading to the right of the foyer, behind the living room and headed to the master bedroom, provided solid beams that would hold Tony in the form of a St. Andrew’s cross. The hall was entered as well by a second door in the living room, so both sides of Tony could be accessed by a quick move from foyer, through the living room, into the hall. 

The groundskeeper was called in and Tony spread himself across the hall entry so the workman could put the anchors into place at the appropriate heights. Tony’s arms and legs were spread wide enough apart that another way to access both sides of him was passing through the gap between his limbs and the wall. The workman finished, Tony found himself stretched between the bolts, supported by chains to his wrists and ankles, bound in steel cuffs. It was the perfect location.

Tony was as happy about the location as the men were. It left him exposed to the view of the staff. The exhibitionist in him was pleased. If he wasn’t going to be allowed to escape into his head, he could escape into ‘you are blessed to see me naked in whatever state I’m in’, only filtered through the proper personality’s perspective before allowing the distillate to flow where it was needed.

Steve was exceptionally pleased when the full strength slap he gave Tony’s ass caused him to scream. The hall was attached to the foyer, which had vaulted ceilings, tiled floors, and hard plastered walls. His scream echoed.

Steve _ did _have a kinky side already developed. He might’ve been amused by the rules that the modern BDSM community played by, but he liked their implements. Barnes took Steve’s lead, but both deferred to Winter’s expertise. The appropriate instruments for Day One were laid out on the foyer table. Steve walked in front of Tony.

“This? Seriously?” Steve questioned. Holding up a small spiked wheel.

“Bottom of the feet, nipples, inside of the thighs, anal rim, perineum, genitals,” Bucky said.

Steve cocked his head to the side, observing Bucky. “I’ve never spent much time with _ him, _ Buck. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”

“I’m me unless it’s _ serious _torture of one kind or another. Then it’s Winter. His knowledge? It seeps through. I’m me but he’s feeding me the information I need.” Bucky stepped through the space between Tony and the wall. He caught his chin to make him look at him. “Isn’t that how it works, Tony?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“You know _ exactly _what I mean, Tony. Tony Stark's neatly boxed up in there somewhere. Do you think I can’t tell the difference? I put myself away every time HYDRA strapped me to that machine. There stopped being much to put away after a couple of decades, but we won’t have you that long. And our resources are far more limited than HYDRA’s. There’ll probably be a solid piece or two left of Tony Stark for you to remember him by.”

“Huh?” Steve looked confused.

“Dissociative identity disorder. That’s the name of it now. Used to be called a split personality. Learned about it in Wakanda. The cure is to bring the alters — the different personalities — under one dominant personality’s control. Like Winter is under Bucky’s. Like whoever Tony disappears into is under his. For now. The more Tony has to rely on the alter who’s getting him through this, the stronger that personality becomes. Might take some Wakandan magic to find the pieces of Tony to bring out for him to take control of whoever’s in charge now. Like they found enough little pieces of Bucky to bring out for me to take control of Winter. Two weeks isn’t enough to erase all of Tony Stark. Just drive him cowering in the darkness for awhile. Make it hard for him to find his way home.”

Bucky watched the fear pass over Tony’s eyes. Watched him try to get control of it. Watched him fail.

“Still think you can beat me at this game, Tony?”

“Don’t have to beat you, Barnes,” Tony gasped out in his own voice. Not a difference Steve could hear, but one Bucky could. “I just have to survive you.”

“Have fun Steve. I’m gonna shower.”

“Wait!” Bucky turned around. Steve held something up outside of Tony’s field of vision. “What the hell is this?”

“Same places as the wheel. Lowest setting can go up his ass. Wanna see something fun, try the highest setting on the thing in his chest. Not for long though.”

Steve set the wheel back down and came back to in front of Tony. He picked up the plug hanging from the implement. “Looks like it runs on some sort of electricity,” he joked as he plugged it into a socket.

Tony sucked his lips in. God he wished he didn’t know what that was. And what it was likely to do to the last place Barnes suggested it be applied.

“Well, you’re not wrong, sir. It’s called a violet wand. And, while Sergeant Barnes suggested the highest setting on my arc reactor, it will actually be worse than just removing it is. Start off at ten percent.”

“He said lowest in your ass, highest on your magic glow light. Let’s split the difference and keep it at fifty percent on both.”

Tony had some of his more pain-oriented partners take fifty percent inside them, but dialed up slowly. Steve set the knob half way and pushed the electrode inside him. There was the expected area of pain, but he felt the pain of the shock travel through his _ entire _body because the current was drawn, through him, to the arc reactor.

The foyer acoustics really were wonderful.

Thankfully Steve didn’t leave it inside Tony for long. He was eager to try his other experiment. Tony took a few steady breaths, as many as he could manage. The electrode touched the center of his arc reactor. He didn’t scream, he just slumped unconscious in his chains, pale as the walls, broken out in a heavy sweat.

“I think I broke him,” Steve said, a little worried, when Bucky came back. 

He wore a loose pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and was toweling off his hair. “Nah.” Bucky pulled Tony’s head up and shook him awake. “See? Still alive.” 

There were dark rings under Tony’s eyes and he was gasping. “Just mild case of cardiac arrest, sir,” Tony panted.

“Bucky, if I’d have done a hundred percent it would’ve killed him.”

Bucky took the wand and ran it over his flesh arm. “This is a _ lot _more powerful than the ones I used.”

“No shit, grandpa,” Tony groaned. “Next time listen to the tech genius before you two assholes kill him.” The situation had Bucky and Steve laughing too hard to notice Tony’s insolence. 

“I know a lot of this,” Steve said. “I had practice with the fags who think that dressing in black leather makes them look like tough men.”

Bucky shook his head. “I will never get used to some things about this century. Queers parading themselves around like they’re normal people.” He took the flogger from Steve’s hands. “About this, unless you want to break his body before we’re ready to, don’t hit him from here to here with it.” He briefly got up and showed on Tony’s body where the kidney area was. He sat back down and started eating some more. “Not across the throat. Be careful on his chest because of that thing. It’s more fragile than I thought it was.”

“It was surrounded by my armor last time.” 

The whip snapped out from Bucky’s hand and caught Tony precisely on his nipple. “What was that?” 

The blow caused a gasping wince. “Surrounded by my armor last time, sir,” Tony corrected himself.

“Anything that snaps and hits, avoid the kidneys. Too risky. Everywhere else, have fun. Hold back a little and don’t break bones. If you split skin, there’s a well stocked and extensive medkit in the pantry. Winter can stitch him up. Everything else on the table, you know. Gags go between those soft pretty lips. Plugs go where you think they do.” Steve laughed. “But the things that will hurt him the most?” Bucky stood, passed through the gap between his body and the wall, and went behind Tony. “These hands.” He choked Tony’s neck with the flesh one, the metal one found a nerve point on his arm that sent it quivering and made Tony try to scream around the hand on his throat.

“They’re not as talented as yours,” Steve said, “but _ these _hands have a bit of experience in causing pain.” Steve punched Tony in the gut like he had on the plane. But chained to the wall, when he bent over, it pulled his shoulders and he screamed again. 

Bucky sat in a chair, pulled close, directly in front of Tony. Steve was trying various things on his back, his ass, and the backs of his thighs. Tony gave him the desired response. Responding heavily to light punishment, in order to keep Steve from going harder. 

Bucky smiled up at him. “I don’t mind Steve letting you get away with shit like that,” he said quietly. “It amuses him. And every wrong response you give him, gives me more information to work with. The more I see your reactions, to pleasure and pain, I will learn where you’ve hidden yourself away.”

He kept speaking through Steve’s blows, through Tony’s screams. Tony could focus one part of his consciousness on withstanding what Steve was doing to him. What Bucky was saying would slip below that. The tone of his voice droning almost hypnotically. Making Tony want to struggle to hear him. 

“Russia controlled me only with pain and fear. I was able to hide so much of myself away. When HYDRA got me, they were little better. They tried the mind games, but weren’t delicate enough. It’s easy to resist when you hate. When you’re angry. When you still have pieces of yourself breaking through before you go under and as soon as you come out. But my last handler, he knew what he was doing. He was CIA. They were miles beyond Russia’s crude attempts at mind control, no matter what the Soviet propaganda said.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, noticing Tony go unfocused. “I don’t mind letting Steve play,” he said, even quieter. “But you do that again and I’m gonna want to join in the fun. Come back or I’ll use cruder methods to find Tony.”

Tony blinked several times, not entirely sure if what he heard was what he thought he heard. Or if it was even possible. Coming back brought the pain Steve was causing back. And the man was getting experimentational with things. Tony’s screams were more genuine. He kept his head lowered though, unable to break away from Barnes’ cold blue eyes. Which were so very different from his seductive ones. Winter wasn’t _ out, _but he was far closer to the surface. And yes, Tony did know exactly what all that meant. 

“You’re at least a little bit of a genius after all,” Bucky smirked. “I bet you don’t know half of the secret stuff Howard worked on. Not even once you inherited the company. Pages and pages of blacked out so-called released information about the things that the CIA was doing, helped by what Stark Industries created.” 

Bucky kept his voice low and even. He broke his sentences to land between Steve’s blows, when Tony could best focus on what he was saying. 

“I came to Pierce in sixty-four. They were officially scaling back the mind control experiments at the CIA. But _ you _know, Tony. Knowledge doesn’t ever go away. You can’t put the genie back in the bottle. They knew it worked. Not perfectly, but it worked.” Bucky chuckled. “That name you called me? Manchurian Candidate? Steve told me it was a book. I read it. A crude story. The reality was much worse. I imagine the book was released to deflect from the fact that the United States was doing what it accused the Soviets of. 

“Drugs were only part of the program.” Bucky’s smirk came again. “Though you’re going to be so hungry and thirsty, you won’t refuse anything, will you, Tony.”

“Not the first drugs I’ve taken,” Tony said in barely a whisper. “Try getting a reaction out of someone who hasn’t been through as many rounds of rehab as me. It wasn’t all for drinking.”

Bucky timed his questions to come as Tony’s scream was ending but before the next began.

“Cocaine? Your class swims in that stuff.”

“That was a big… problem… for awhile,” Tony answered, his words broken by gasped cries out. 

“Crack?” Bucky asked. Tony rolled his eyes. “Meth?” 

“Speed,” Tony countered. “Different generation.” 

“Heroin?” 

“A… dalliance,” Tony admitted.

“Hallucinogens?”

“In my youth.”

“Pot’s like booze now,” Bucky observed. 

“I’ve done it. But alcohol was my personal poison for a bit of social lubrica— _ Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Steve!” _Tony barked and jerked up, when a particularly stinging crop cut landed across the back of his thighs. “I’m trying to have a conversation with your boyfriend!”

Oh, that was the **_wrong_** thing to say, Tony realized before the last word was finished coming out of his mouth.


	16. How to hurt him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “You should _not_ have made that crack, Stark,” Steve growled. “Your fucking ‘winning personality’ won’t do anything but piss me off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no consistency or sense when it comes to posting. I need one of those 'I do what I want' passes. Sorry to anyone who expects standard regular updates. You get a surprise in your notifications.

Bucky leapt out of the chair. Not to attack Tony, but to slide around him and stand by Steve. He put his hand on Steve’s arm. 

“I will show you how to hurt him,” Winter said. “Where do you want the pain?”

“You should _ not _have made that crack, Stark,” Steve growled. “Your fucking ‘winning personality’ won’t do anything but piss me off.”

“Yes sir,” Tony said, but he knew it was too late for simple submission to satisfy Steve after what he said.

“A lot of pain, Winter. Hurt him where a faggot lives. Show him the difference between a fag and a man. How do I hurt him that way?”

Bucky went to the table and picked up a very short, multi-thonged whip. He handed it to Steve and they went to stand in front of Tony. “Hard. Across his limp dick.” He looked at Tony. “A fag gets fucked. His dick is superfluous.”

“Oh god,” Tony said. His breaths became rapid in anticipation. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the actuality of it. After three strokes, Tony fell into endless babbling, begging for Steve to stop. Winter helped Steve learn to control his aim, making sure he hit the head on the next one. Tony screamed and pulled against his bonds so hard, he wondered if he’d break his wrists. But the thought was chased away when Steve’s next blow landed the tips of the whip on his perineum while the thongs struck his balls. 

_ “You _ are the only faggot in this house.” Another blow on the head of Tony’s cock. “You’re just so sick that you can’t comprehend…” Across his shaft. “…The concept of two men being friends…” And again. “…Without turning into something perverted.”

Steve hit so hard that Tony’s vision whited out. Steve came close and grabbed him by the hair, jerking him back from the edge of unconsciousness.

“I’m not done with you yet, Stark.”

Tony begged again for it to stop. His words fast, slurred, almost unintelligible except for ‘please’ and ‘no’. When he became unfocused and nearly passed out again, Barnes slapped him back to reality and Steve landed his final blow, hard, directly on the head, and Tony lost consciousness to the sound of Steve’s words, ‘fucking faggot’, said in disgust.

When Tony came to, he was on the bed, and Steve’s cock was plowing into him. The force of his thrusts, caused Tony’s cock to sway, hanging limply down between his legs. The movement reignited the pain. Especially when Steve slammed in so hard that his cock hit his belly. 

“Gonna beat your best time by a lot,” Steve grunted. “Show Stark what he’s good for.” He reached underneath Tony and gave his cock a tug, laughing when he screamed. “A cock’s useless on a fag. No matter how much he likes to pretend he’s a man by shoving it up another fag’s cunt. It’s just sissies bumping pussies waiting for a real man to show them what fucking is.”

“Don’t do it, Tony,” Bucky said, noticing Tony balancing on his elbows, preparing to start to drift. “You know that if I’m here, I’m not letting you get away with that shit. I can tell.” He wrapped his metal fingers loosely around Tony’s cock. “I can leave this thing useless forever and still have you be alive for us to play with. So you tell whoever you have protecting Tony Stark to keep himself here with us.”

“Yes sir.” Tony’s voice was thick, yet answered without pain in it.

“Good boy,” Barnes said with a pat on Tony’s head. “You make it one minute past forty-five, Steve, and you’ll have beaten my all time best.”

“Never one to shirk from a challenge, Buck,” Steve said brightly. 

Whenever he’d get close, Steve would break his rhythm or pull almost out and hold there until he got himself under control. Then he’d start fucking again. Idontgiveafuck screamed when it hurt bad, whimpered and begged, cried out sharply when Steve’s thrusts made his cock swing hard enough to pull at it. But he stayed present and took the pain, pushing Tony farther away. 

“Fuck!” Steve groaned angrily. “GODDAMMIT!” And he came.

“Sorry. Forty-two minutes doesn’t cut it,” Bucky teased.

“It’s okay. I’ll beat it by the end of the two weeks,” Steve said as he pulled out. 

Bucky laughed. “You’re assuming I don’t beat my own personal best.” 

Steve reached down and gave Tony’s cock a hard twist and pulled, stretching it out downwards. Tony screamed. “Who’s the faggot?”

“I am sir!” Tony gasped out in pain. “I’m a faggot sir. You’re a man.”

“On your knees on the floor, Tony,” Bucky said sharply. Tony followed his order. “Look at your useless sissy clit. After what Steve did, you won’t be getting hard for a couple of days.”

Tony looked down. His cock was thick and swollen. Thicker than when he was hard, but he most definitely wasn’t hard. Despite the extra thickness, he was no longer than when he was normally soft. And the color. His shaft was dark red, tiger-striped with purple-blue. The head was covered in spots in purple-blue. Even the slightest movement he made hurt. When he breathed it hurt. 

“Don’t worry, Tony. It’ll still work again, once the swelling goes down. You’ll be able to wet yourself like a bitch when you get my dick up your cunt,” Bucky said, giving Tony’s cock a nudge with the toe of his boot. 

“On your back,” Bucky said. He pulled Tony close to the bed and adjusted his position relative to it. 

The men went to sleep on the bed and Tony kept his position on his back. He was a side sleeper, but he had no complaints. At least where he was allowed to sleep was dry and wasn’t a pool of piss. The reason for the place he was put in became obvious during the night. Whenever Bucky would wake slightly, he could lower his hand off the side of the bed and touch Tony on his swollen cock. If Bucky was still mostly asleep, it was touch. If he was more awake, it was grab or pull. The first time it happened, Bucky warned Tony that if he woke Steve by crying out or making too much noise, worse would happen. Tony stayed silent whenever his sleep was broken by pain.

~~~~~

“We’ll be out at the pool,” Steve said the next morning, after he and Barnes had filled Tony’s ass. “Stand, stay naked, and serve us whatever we need. You can start by bringing towels.”

“Yes sir.” Every movement hurt, but it was still only the start of the second day. He _ had _to learn how to handle it. 

Tony could handle a lot of pain. Whoeverthefuck could handle a lot of pain. But Idontgiveafuck? Somehow inside of Tony’s brain, that particular person was rapidly developing the ability to not only handle pain but to twist it into a kind of an almost-pleasure. Which Tony supposed was what his subs used to do. Only it was an alien experience to him. While he might like to bottom from time to time, he never was a sub. But apparently Idontgiveafuck was. That was convenient, he supposed. But there was something worrying about it. Something tickling the back of Tony Stark’s mind. But Tony was too far away to let them reconcile it.

He served the men poolside until lunch was announced. He was told serving meals was also part of his daily duties unless they had him otherwise occupied.

“Two weeks is a long time,” Steve observed, as they sat down to the meal.

Bucky nodded. “Most tortures last a day, maybe two, at the very outside three. Then whatever information we wanted, we had. Or the subject was dead.” 

When Tony was pouring him a glass of wine, Bucky ran his finger along the crack of his ass, dragging it across his come-dripping hole. He pushed it in, wiggling it around, then held it up, raising it close to Tony’s mouth. Tony bent his head down and sucked it clean. He did it again with two fingers. Then with three. While Tony was distracted letting his tongue licked in between his fingers, Bucky lightly dragged the tines of his fork across his swollen shaft.

Tony’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned around Bucky’s fingers.

“Really…” Bucky drawled, filing the information away. Tony’s cheeks colored when he realized what he’d done. Bucky smacked his ass and sent him back to his serving duties. 

“What the fuck?” Steve asked.

“Tell you later,” Bucky said quietly. He went back to the previous topic. “Not every time I was made to torture was for information, though. There was disciplining the difficult or rebellious. There was making an example of someone by putting on a performance for others who needed to be brought into line. There was revenge.” Tony began serving the next course. “And there was simply performing for HYDRA members who found torture entertaining. That’s where the knowledge of how to stretch torture out creatively over long periods of time came in. Creatively being the key. Both to entertain the audience, but to keep the subject on his toes and properly terrified.”

Steve laughed. “You packed some weird shit, Buck.” Tony was out of the room. "Okay, what the fuck is up with the fork?"

“The way he responded. It wasn’t entirely pain. Something, some_one, _is beginning to turn some of the pain into pleasure. It happened with some of the subjects. Not often. But if it happens too much, I have to get more creative sooner.”

Barnes shrugged. “Two weeks was at the outside of the entertainment range. I packed so much because I have to keep the options open.”

“You packed all that pretty quick,” Steve observed. Bucky smiled.

Tony came back into the dining room with the wine that went with desert. 

Once it was poured, Bucky picked up his water glass and poured it on the tile floor. “Drink.”

Tony fell quickly to the floor and began noisily slurping before the terracotta tiles could absorb all the liquid. More was poured over his bowed head. When he realized what was happening, he cupped his hands under his face to catch the rivulets as they ran over his sweaty skin and scalp. The water was dirty from both sources, but it was actual water. He knew he needed that.

“Thank me,” Bucky said.

“Thank you sir,” Tony answered, genuinely.

Bucky turned slightly in his chair and put his boot out in front of Tony. “Thank me,” he said again.

Tony kissed and licked the toe, thanking Barnes between lavings.

Turning back to the table, Bucky held his water glass up. “I’d like more water, Tony.”

“Yes sir.” Tony brought out a pitcher, coated in cold sweating water, and refilled Bucky’s and then Steve’s glass. He set the pitcher on the sideboard. The thought passed quickly through him about what the punishment might be for upending the pitcher and drinking as much as he could before that punishment began. Instead, he walked away from it. When he did, he noticed that Barnes had been intently watching him. He went back to serving lunch and waiting on the men.

“Shit, I thought I was kinky,” Steve said chuckling.

“You’re kinky, Steven. I’m _ trained.” _

“Yeah, but if you get off on it — and you do! — it’s kinky.”

Bucky smiled. “Nothing wrong with enjoying your work. But the key to the remaining days is the observation you make during the first couple.” 

When Tony passed to the other side of Barnes, his metal hand shot up and grabbed Tony by the chin, a little too roughly, forcing him to look at the man.

“Tony Stark would’ve been far more unreadable than you.” Bucky pushed away and sent Tony sprawling onto the floor. “Stay!”


	17. Steve doesn’t know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
**DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**   

> 
> * * *
> 
> Survival was ingrained in Tony. He had been _through some shit_ and survived. He’d survive this. Killing himself was not an option, no matter how bad things were. He survived on spite. And surviving was the best revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is a posting schedule? 🤷♂️ LeCoeur just doesn't know. 
> 
> But I did start a tumblr. It's new & pretty dead, but if you wanted to contact me (no hate, don't waste both our time) that's how. Link in the endnotes. 
> 
> Any WinterIron developments are all Himbos' fault. 😘
> 
> Okay... you can also blame Bucky's Long Hair 😭💔😭 I'm in mourning.

Steve called for a maid to finish serving the last of the lunch, while Tony stayed in the exact same awkward, uncomfortable position in which he’d fallen. 

After they were finished eating, the men left the dining room and went out the front door to… wherever. There were lovely beaches, a pool, areas with paths designed to appreciate the island beauty. Tony wasn’t often able to get away, but when he did, he loved it here. The peace and quiet did wonders to revitalize him so he could get back to the bullshit of his life. He doubted he’d ever see this place like that again.

Tony didn’t move, tried very hard not to move. His body might’ve stayed put, but left alone, his mind was allowed to blissfully drift. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the afternoon light had turned into evening when he heard the front door open and the men came back.

“Follow,” Barnes said. 

Tony scrambled to his feet, stumbled as the blood flowed back into them, and hurried to do as he was ordered. He followed the men into the bedroom. Barnes stopped him from settling down onto his knees.

“Go to the bathroom. Relieve yourself. Douche. Shower. Otherwise clean yourself up. Shave that shit off of your face. Then get into bed.”

“You’re giving him a razor?” Steve asked incredulously.

“None of them are suicidal and _ Tony _knows the risk of attacking us.”

“High or low, sir?” Tony asked.

“Low’s fine for tonight. High tomorrow,” Bucky said. 

_ Why’d you have to be such a kinky bastard?, _ Tony thought, yet again. There’s nothing wrong with being a kinky bastard, Whoeverthefuck told him, like he used to tell him that there was nothing wrong with liking other boys. Every kinky thing he did was something the other man agreed to. Uncoerced. That wasn’t the same as the situation he was in. When he had his fist up that guy’s ass all the way to his elbow, that was because before he did it, he talked to him. Found out what his limits were, what the other man wanted out of the scene. Tony told him how far he was willing to go. Everything was mutually enjoyable. His ‘kinky bastard’ side never did _ anything _ like this.

Neither Steve nor Barnes followed him into the bathroom. They stayed in the bedroom and he heard both voices talking quietly. Tony didn’t give enough of a damn to try to listen. He was allowed to be human for a little while. He was allowed to open that box. Barnes was right about his safety with regard to the razor. Survival was ingrained in Tony. He had been _ through some shit _ and survived. He’d survive this. Killing himself was not an option, no matter how bad things were. He survived on spite. And surviving was the best revenge. 

The only thing he used the razor for was to shave off his goatee. He may have played around a bit with the look of his facial hair through the years, but it was _ the _identifying thing about his appearance since he was in his twenties. His face without it just looked… weird. It did knock a few years off though. Made his eyes and lips more prominent. And his face softer. Which, he supposed, was what the men were going for. It was a small thing to concede to them. A week or so after he got home, his face would look like his face again. At least in regards his beard. He doubted that it would be much less than a month before whatever bruises and damage they left him would be gone.

He took the time to run the water as cold as it would get. He filled the sink and lowered his swollen cock into the water. The temperature was a shock, but he knew that cold would help the swelling go down and make things marginally less painful in the long run. 

Since he wasn’t being watched, no one stopped him from drinking as much water as he wanted. He filled glass after glass from the other sink. He _ knew _ he shouldn’t drink as much as he was or as fast as he was doing it. But after over two days without water, his common sense was overwhelmed by his thirst. On an empty stomach, he cramped. Instead of stopping, he just took the temperature of the water up a little to room temp instead of the quenching cold the first glasses were.

Next was the less than pleasant task of douching. He knew what it was. Some of his partners explained what they did before coming over to play. With enough vagueness not to be gross, but enough detail that Tony knew what he was supposed to do. A high douche was a colonic by a kinky name. In the kink community, it was used as a preparation for deep fisting. A low douche just cleaned the rectum. Which given as much as he’d been fucked and filled, was very much needed. Still, it was one of those things best done as a body-mechanical necessity and not thought about. 

What was very _ much _thought about was the luxury of a hot shower he’d been granted. He had his suspicions that it wouldn’t come without an eventual price, but it was one he was more than willing to pay. He scrubbed hard to get the come and dirt and whatever else off of his body and out of his hair. But then he closed his eyes and just let the water flow over him. Everyone else was gone and only Tony Stark was there. 

“Hi, Tony.” Barnes’ voice came, quietly, from the doorway.

Tony took a long, deep, shuddering breath. He held onto the grab bar as an odd mix of fear and uneasy calm made his head spin. He knew he had to put himself away again, but doing so was like moving through honey.

Barnes stepped into the shower with him, naked. He stood beside Tony and slid his metal arm around his waist to steady him. “Unh unh, Tony. Stay,” he said softly. He took the washcloth, squirted it with body wash and gently ran it over Tony’s back.

“I know this trick already,” Tony said quietly. He held onto the grab bar with both hands, his eyes closed tightly shut.

“Do you think I would use the same trick twice?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still a trick.”

“Are you sure?” Barnes asked as he slid the cloth over Tony’s shoulder, down his arm.

Tony nodded.

“There are things Steve doesn’t know about me,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. The cloth washed over Tony’s back again, staying above the waist. “We were apart for a long time. Things happened that he’ll never understand. Things that had their beginnings in denial before I ever fell from that train.”

White knuckled on the bar, Tony bent his head down and shook it.

“Overcompensation, Tony," Bucky said. "You know the theory.” He moved to stand behind Tony. He rocked against him, frotting the top swell of his shaft along Tony’s crack.

“You’re trying to fuck with my head. I know that,” he said, still quiet but with more conscious awareness. Tony raised his head, arched, and pressed back into Barnes’ slide along his ass. When he next spoke, there was no pleading, no fear, no servitude in his voice. He spoke as he would to any bedmate. With the desire of equals. 

“Fuck me, Bucky.”

Bucky reached past Tony to the shower shelf. A bottle of water-resistant lube was there to help with the douche nozzle. He slicked his cock heavily with it then sank slowly into Tony’s ass. His metal hand grabbed the bar for balance, and his fingers held solidly, normally, onto Tony’s hip. 

Tony pushed back, meeting Bucky’s long, slow thrusts as they rocked together. He reached up, behind himself, and cupped his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck. His fingers tangled in the man’s long, wet hair. As painfully impossible as it was, his cock managed a half-hearted erection, wanting more. Bucky bent across his back, touching him with the length of his body, sliding over him, the warm shower water easing that slide.

Bucky’s thrusts became faster, but not rougher. Still long, deep glides into Tony that caused the exact sensations he went searching for whenever he wanted to get fucked. He let go of the grab bar completely and reached down to touch himself. He wasn’t fully hard, but his cock was swollen and the skin stretched tightly over the bruises. Even though what Bucky was doing felt _ extraordinary, _ when he tried to stroke his cock he winced and whimpered in pain.

“I’ll get you there, Tony.” Bucky put Tony’s hand back on the bar before holding his hip again. “I’m gonna make you come on my dick. It’ll still hurt. But not as much as touching yourself.” He pressed his forehead against the nape of Tony’s neck, touching his tongue to the rivulets of water running down it. “Silent. Not a sound,” he whispered.

Tony knew it had to be a mind game. It felt so real though. But the best mind games _ must _ feel real. _ Eek out a little peace and normal where you can, just don’t believe it. _

Barnes angled his stroke downward and staying quiet took all that Tony could do. Bucky was a better lay than Steve by a factor of a thousand. Steve had no finesse with that big thing between his legs. Bucky… his youth spent as a ‘lady's man’, before being a supersoldier, gave him something worth writing home about. He _ knew _ what he was doing. Before long, Tony was biting his lips in and squeezing his eyes shut. The hand he had reached back around Bucky’s neck grasped hard. He came against the shower wall and the water took the evidence away. The pleasure gone, his cock started to throb painfully. Bucky did warn him, but getting fucked _ like that _ was worth it.

Tony felt Bucky begin to work toward his own pleasure. Straight in, fast and shallow. Instead of fingers grasping his hip, Bucky wrapped his arm low around Tony’s waist and pulled him tight against him, holding himself deep inside, filling him with come. There were no mean taunts after. No roughness to make Tony feel bad about what just happened.

When their quakes passed, Tony’s voice was whisper-quiet. “Fell for a homophobic straight guy,” Tony said, massaging Bucky’s scalp at the nape of his neck. “Neither of us get what we want.”

Bucky pressed a kiss behind Tony’s ear. He slid out of Tony’s ass and put another kiss where the first one was. The running water washed everything down the drain. Trailing his fingers down Tony’s spine first, Bucky stepped out of the shower, dried off. He hesitated in the doorway.

“Put yourself away and come to the bed. You’ll eventually get what you want. I’m just going to make you pay for it first.”

Tony stood there in the shower, both hands on the bar, shaking. It felt real. God it felt so real. He stayed there for only a moment, then he cleaned himself of the evidence. Whatever just happened, it was something that Bucky didn’t want Steve to know about. He turned off the shower and started drying himself off. 

Maybe Bucky wanted him to _ think _ Steve wouldn’t approve. Real or not real, there was nothing to do but take it as a moment of pleasure given for some reason that Tony wouldn’t know until it was used against him. Barnes said that some men break to pleasure. Tony took the entire bathroom experience as a bit of respite. Probably granted so he’d know his humanity before it was stripped of him. Know _ Tony _ before he was stripped of himself. 

Manchurian Candidate was a master at CIA mind games.


	18. Less than straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “Oh, Bucky,” he sighed with mock ecstasy once the initial pain of the man’s entry passed. “I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper, hoping that only Bucky could hear.

Steve was in the room with Barnes, both standing around. Waiting for him, but casually. Tony strode up to Bucky and tangled his fist into the man’s long hair. He pulled him down into a rough, demanding kiss.

“If you fuck me _ like that, _ you kiss me,” Tony said, his voice low, thick with passion, and _ commanding. _ He let go of Bucky’s hair with a little push. It all happened so fast that they were both stunned. Tony prepared for the inevitable.

Barnes slapped him across the face. As both men had been doing, he pulled his strength. Tony stood rigid, his neck locked in place, and took the force of the blow without flinching, letting his head spin around, or falling to the floor. He felt the sting raise, and the pain in his neck start, but he gave Barnes a smirk. In return he saw _ fear, _ quickly glossed over by anger, in his face. 

Tony instantly regretted what he’d done, though he didn’t let it show. Bucky had been telling the truth in the shower. Steve didn’t know that his best friend was… less than straight.

Bucky grabbed Tony by the back of the neck with his metal hand. He picked him up off the floor and threw him onto the bed, on his back.

“Fuck you like what, Stark?” He climbed onto the bed and pushed Tony’s legs far apart with his knees. “You want a kiss?” Bucky grabbed hold of his cock and stretched out over him. He pulled hard. When Tony screamed, he took his mouth and kissed him roughly, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll give you a kiss, pretty little girl. He let go of Tony’s cock and pulled his leg up. “Wrap your legs around me. You know you want it, you cock hungry whore.” Tony pushed his hips up, put his legs around Bucky’s waist, and locked his ankles behind the man's back, just above the rise of his ass.

“Fuck me, Bucky,” he said with a sarcastic play at his earlier words. 

As soon as his legs were open and his hole pointing up, Bucky thrust into him, all at once, fast and hard, nothing at all like he had done in the shower. It took determination, but Tony shifted his scream into a moan. “Oh, Bucky,” he sighed with mock ecstasy once the initial pain of the man’s entry passed. “I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper, hoping that only Bucky could hear. 

He _ was _sorry, but his game had begun and it had to continue so that nothing would be revealed to Steve. 

Tony’s game had brought out the worst in Bucky. It had to, to cover the fear of discovery. Bucky’s hand settled over Tony’s throat and a cold, cruel look settled over his face. “You fucking cunt.” 

Tony knew that was said in response to his ‘I’m sorry’. 

Barnes squeezed tighter. “You’re lucky Steve promised you your life.” Bucky pulled his hips back and slammed straight down into Tony’s ass, grinding against him. “The rest of you, Stark…” His hand left Tony’s throat, who sputtered and coughed when it did. He reached down and took Tony’s balls in his hand, pulled and twisted on them. “The rest of you is mine,” Barnes said, stretching the sac as far as he could. When he let go and they fell back against Tony’s body, he cupped his hand and slapped hard directly over them. “Fuckin’ arrogant faggot thinks his ass is golden. By the time we’re through with it, it’s gonna be so loose you won’t be able to satisfy a man, right Steve?” Bucky looked over at Steve who was sitting in a chair, his hand on his dick, grinning lecherously. “Nothing but a broken down whore.”

Bucky pulled back and slapped Tony’s face harder than he’d tried to before. It was all happening fast. The fierce fuck, often pulled out all the way before he’d slam in again and thrust. His hand hurt him. Around his throat, slapping, punching hard enough to knock the breath out of him but not break any ribs, popping him one quickly in the center of his face breaking his nose, covering his face in blood. Tony’s legs fell from around Bucky’s waist. There was no pretending to be eager for his fuck. It was something to be endured until Barnes decided he was finished. 

Despite his pain, despite Bucky’s anger, despite Steve’s disgust, a part of Tony — perhaps Whoeverthefuck, who always kept Tony’s desire for men safe — wanted to cry for the man’s dilemma. In love with a homophobic straight guy. Willing to do _ whatever, _ so he could be close to him. Feeling sorry for Bucky even though his desire to be close to Steve meant his own torture.

When he drifted, Bucky let him. He stayed wherever Idontgiveafuck sent him. Until he felt his ass filled with come and saw Steve, not Bucky above him. He drifted again and when he came back, he couldn’t move at all. His ankles were bound to the iron bars at the corners of the headboard, right next to his bound wrists. He was completely bent in two.

Bucky smirked down at him. “Now, let’s see how kinky the one protecting you _ really _is.” He ran his fingers, with a mild pressure, along the underside of his cock. He ran them over the welts on his legs from Steve’s beatings. He pressed a little harder.

Tony bit his lips to keep in the moan. But then Barnes pressed too hard and he let out a yelp of pain. 

The exploration continued. Steve took up the place on the other side of Tony and began his own poking and prodding. He was a quick study.

“We’re learning how to hurt versus how to please, right?” Steve asked.

“Yup. Now you know how hard to go to get the physical reactions that turn you on.” Steve grinned. “And now I know how hard to go to get the psychological reactions that turn _ me _on,” Bucky added.

The men left him bound to the bed when they went to shower for bed. When they came back, they unfastened him. Steve locked leather cuffs on his wrists, held in front of him, and ankles. There was a couple of links of chain between them, allowing for hobbled movement.

“You got the sheets filthy,” Steve said. “Change them.”

“Yes sir.” Tony looked around. He knew there were no linens in the attached dressing room. “Um… sir… I have no idea where they’re kept. Staff always took care of that.”

Steve laughed. “Fucking useless rich faggot. Can’t even take care of himself.” He pressed the intercom. “Where are the linens for the bed in the master bedroom kept?” When the answer came, Steve let go of the button. “Now you know. God, rich people are almost as disgusting as faggots. A rich faggot? Unbearable. Why do you think this is happening to you, Stark?” he asked rhetorically.

Tony waddled his way to the linen closet, found sheets, and waddled his way back. He’d never changed a bed in his life, not even when he was stuck in the dorms at MIT. He avoided it until Rhodey, disgusted with the state Tony left the room in, cleaned it up. It took him five times before he figured out how to stretch a bottom sheet over a bed as huge as his, and then put back into place everything that was on the bed. 

The men were watching TV, occasionally Steve would look back to watch him fail. And Barnes would look back to gauge his reaction to… Tony wasn’t sure what Bucky was looking for this time, but he knew that he’d see it. He saw through every one of Tony’s reactions and protections. And it terrified him. Tony was giving up his secrets and he knew no way to stop doing it. He had to trust that what Barnes told him would be true. There’d be enough pieces of Tony Stark left that he could put himself together again.

Soon after the bed was made, the TV went off and Steve and Barnes climbed into it. Tony knelt on the floor beside it. 

“That’s where you sleep,” Steve said. “On the floor.”

“Thank you sir,” Tony said, as he tried to work out a slightly comfortable position with his hands and feet bound. There was none of his usual insomnia. His body had had enough. He fell right asleep.


	19. Taken for a ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT**  

> 
> * * *
> 
> “There ya go!” he said, clapping Tony on the shoulder. “Knew you were a whore, Stark. I also know you know how to ride a dick. You rode mine back when I had to pretend to treat you nice. Before I found out what you really are. You rode mine and kept crying out for more. Now you have your more. Ride it.”

The sun was well in the sky when he was kicked awake by Steve’s foot. “Go douche, Stark. All the way up. Shave. No shower. And don’t test my patience.” 

** _On the fifth day… does it really matter what was done to him? Like any good saint, he suffered. But okay. On the fifth day, he was taken for a ride._ **

Steve enjoyed causing pain. Barnes (or Winter, depending on how severe the damage) took care of the aftermath to keep Tony’s body prepared for more. Fourteen days was a long time to torture, he’d said. It needed to be paced out. Different sorts of pain had to be used. 

A chair was put in the foyer. The thing Steve put on the chair was impossibly big. But he knew how long his arm was, how big around it was, and it fit up some guy’s ass. That enormous dildo would fit up his. It would hurt like hell… but what didn’t? At least Steve was slathering it with a thick lube. Tony’s wrists and ankles were still bound in the leather cuffs he was in at bedtime. 

“Go on, Stark,” Steve said. “You wanted something big and hard in that pussy of yours.”

“Yes sir.” Tony went to stand in front of the chair. He bent his knees and felt the head of the thing press against his hole. It was one thing having a big dick pushed into you and just laying there having it happen. It was quite another having to lower yourself down onto something almost twice the size of even a supersoldier’s cock. The dildo was tapered, but it widened out quickly, what seemed like _ too _quickly, down to a base that looked at least as thick, if not thicker, than his forearm. 

“Faster, Stark. Sink all the way down on it. Ass on the chair.” Steve bent over, watching the huge dildo slowly disappearing up Tony’s ass. Watching his hole open for it. “Fuck, Stark, you really are nothing but a cock hungry queer, looking for the biggest thing to put up your ass. I said, faster.”

“Yes sir.” Tony winced as he forced himself down onto the thing, trying to take it faster, but his body resisted his every attempt. Instinct was to move _ away _ from the source of pain, not to move toward it and make it worse. Fighting the instinct had to be done. Worse things could happen if he didn’t. So Tony pushed his ass down towards the chair as fast as he could. Steve’s calls for him to go faster were combined with taunts about how hungry his ‘pussy’ was, how he wanted this, how he was finally going to get his ass filled. Tony tuned him out and focused on lowering himself. He breathed deep and exhaled slowly, sinking farther on each exhalation. His face screwed up and small, punched out groans of pain were forced from him. 

The more Tony sank down, Steve bent over further, watching the huge dildo finally disappear completely up his ass. “There ya go!” he said, clapping Tony on the shoulder. “Knew you were a whore, Stark. I also know you know how to ride a dick. You rode mine back when I had to pretend to treat you nice. Before I found out what you really are. You rode mine and kept crying out for more. Now you have your more. Ride it.”

Tony started to slowly slide back up the dildo. The relief had no time to settle in because Steve was still watching his ass with a fascinated look on his face as he took the thing back into himself again.

“You rode my dick faster than that, Tony.”

He remembered the first few times he took a big dick. Slow was actually worse. It let him feel the stretch for so long that he had time to feel the pain. When Rhodey increased his speed, _ that’s _ when it started to feel nothing but good. This would never feel good, especially with Steve watching, but faster would be more tolerable, he hoped.

It was. Tony bent forward slightly. His hands were still cuffed, but the links between them let him rest his hands on his thighs for balance and leverage. He tried to settle into a faster rhythm.

“Damn!” Steve watched Tony’s ass stretch to take the dildo in. “Buck, look at this. Never knew an ass could stretch wider than being fisted.”

Bucky had entered the foyer from somewhere down a different hall. He shrugged. “It takes bigger.”

“Seriously? I thought that the other thing was just to show him and get him scared.”

Bucky laughed. “It’s for after I see the reaction that I know I’m going to see.” He held a small screen about the size of a phone in front of Tony. “Portable security monitor. The tech genius thinks of everything.” He clicked through the different camera views of the house until he found the one that took in the foyer. Tony showed up perfectly in it.

Steve laughed. 

“Pool, Steve?” Bucky asked. “Before the sun gets too high.”

“Great idea. “Better keep riding that dick. You’re still moving too slow. Show me how hungry your cunt is, Tony. We’ll be watching.”

Security cameras were a default for Tony. The penthouse was covered in them, feeding directly into FRIDAY. Here, they also feed into FRIDAY, when he brought her here. Right now she was in a maintenance shed, in his suit that was on minimal standby power. The cameras fed only into the security/server room. And the portable monitors were a convenience for the security he hired. More when he was on the island, less — but still there — when he was off of it. Like everything else in his life, it seemed, a more painful use was found for it whenever Steve was around.

Anything can eventually be tolerated. Everyone else was put away in their boxes and only Idontgiveafuck remained to take a continuous, fast, and enthusiastic ride. He didn’t dare let up, just in case the men were watching at any point. No one else felt any pain. Not Tony, not Whoeverthefuck. Idontgiveafuck protected them.

Twice, Bucky came in, dripping from the pool. He had Tony rise up almost entirely off the hard rubber cock and he re-coated it with lube. Each time, Tony thanked him and resumed his ride.

The sun was high and both men came in, toweling themselves off. Tony was riding fast, angling his body in various ways. Bent forward was very nice. It fit inside his body just right. Felt like getting solidly fucked, only bigger, with more of that pressure. Straight up was deeper; ride all the way up then let go of the tension in his legs to let gravity do the work for him. That was like when Steve fucked hard and fast and rough. Leaning back as far as he could. His back arched, his head resting on top of the chair’s back, his ass not ever rising more than halfway up the thing before sliding forcefully back down. That one he liked, but he couldn’t do it too many times repeatedly. It was painful. But mixed with something else to cause a curious enough sensation that he sought it out. He rested his bound hands low across his stomach, feeling it stretch as the dildo pushed out, distending his body to make room for it. His eyes closed and his lips parted and a small moan escaped him each time, despite how uncomfortable it was and how much his thighs burned with the endless strain of it. The muscles of his quivered from the effort. But Idontgiveafuck was enjoying himself and Tony was too afraid of the consequences if he stopped.

Tony saw Bucky look at his watch. “Three hours.” He chuckled. They went into the bedroom to change. Idontgiveafuck continued to ride the outrageously huge dildo, searching for the movements that would bring him the greatest pleasure to slide underneath the constant of the pain.

After the men finished their lunch in the sunroom, Steve caught Tony underneath his arms and pulled him abruptly off the dildo. He tossed him to the floor. “Hands and knees.” The order was given casually. 

Tony’s legs, relieved of the strain, refused to raise his body. Steve kicked him in his side. Tony tried. Another kick and that time Steve left his foot underneath Tony and pulled up, raising half of him. “Hands. And. Knees.” Steve repeated the order with far less patience and far more anger. Tony forced himself to find the strength and raised himself into position.

Steve dropped to his knees between Tony’s legs. He shoved his un-lubed fist up into Tony’s widely gaped ass. He stayed loose around his wrist, not closing up right away like he should’ve. “Busted wide fuckin’ open.”

“Nah,” Bucky said. “It’s a nice hole for you to play with for a little while, Steve, but he’ll start to tighten as soon as you take your fist out. It takes awhile to bust a cunt open enough to where,” Bucky chuckled, “Stark will never be able to take a shit like a normal human being.”


	20. Endure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh hello, Winter._ Tony knew that Bucky was good enough to recognize the subtle difference between his voice and the others’ voices. But the accent and flat tone made it easy for anyone to tell when Winter fully arrived on the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This fic is currently on Hiatus. I still have a great amount of it already written, and hopefully some day I'll be up to knitting those disjointed pieces together.
> 
> I wanted to speak a moment as to why I lost my steam on this fic. It wasn't the usual anti fare. It was an 'appreciative' comment, if you can call it that. But I have zero-tolerance for antisemitism. And simply reading it made me question deeply how the fic was being interpreted. 
> 
> Of course every work of fiction is open to the reader's interpretation. Once it leaves my pen and I hit post, I have no control over it. But the comment was so deeply disturbing that it's gonna take me a while before I can even think of approaching this fic again.
> 
> Then on a more personal, not political, note -- It's hard for me to read comments that cheer for Steve to win at the end of this ordeal. Those I delete too because I can't stand to read them when I'm going back through my comments. Again, open to interpretation, but if you're seeing Steve as deserving to win in this scenario? Seriously? I'm obviously not doing my job as a writer to explain how many millions of reasons that's wrong. 
> 
> So all of this has kinda left me at a loss for inspiration to finish the chapters that are needed to bridge this last one and carry on to the others I'd written. I remain hopeful. I hate to leave so many 1000s of words in my file unposted.

** _Endurance is a saintly virtue. Endure the torture the Romans cause. Pray to God for the strength to endure._ **

Only Tony didn’t believe in God, either with the capital letter or the lower case. He’d stopped believing long before his mom stopped dragging him to Mass. And meeting a couple of them as an adult did nothing to kindle any kind of faith in anything. 

So instead he prayed to something else. To the little bits of himself that he knew were there. To the knowledge that he could survive. To his faith that he would return to his tower in the sky. To the fact that he would once again be Tony Stark, alone, with nobody else inside of him. To the knowledge he was _ beyond _intelligent and could find a solution to any problem, even this. When enduring made him falter, he said this litany.

The facts of Tony’s life for the next two weeks could be laid out and worked on like a puzzle. Fit the pieces into place. They were jumbled, but there was a pattern. Something that might allow for anticipation and preparing himself to endure. A routine of things, even if they didn’t occur in the same order each day. 

Steve liked to hurt. But his repertoire was limited. He enjoyed them so much that Tony knew that whips and crops and the like would be a daily event. Early or late morning so far. There was going to be time spent on the chair riding whatever monstrosity the men wanted him to shove up his ass. Bucky hinted at things even bigger than he'd been riding so far. That happened in the late morning or within a few hours of bed so he’d be open for the men to easily use. Tony would let Idontgiveafuck take that task over since when he did, it was easier for him to endure for however long they wanted him to ride.

There was serving the men dinner. But sometimes also lunch. Breakfast was handled by the staff and eaten with Tony kneeling, watching, because his hunger was always worse in the morning. Meals were a constant so far, so they could be adjusted to.

The night before’s dinner was served with Tony in a lingerie get up. There was no pretending he looked good in it. He didn’t have the body for it. It was ridiculous and he was mocked for how ugly a girl he was. But at dinner, even though he had to work for it, Barnes always gave him _ some _ actual water instead of the endless drinking of their piss. 

It was a cycle of punishment and reward with Barnes. Usually the punishment was much greater than the reward given. But even the smallest reward, Tony chased after. Any reward helped him endure. Reward, of any sort, never came from Steve. 

Fucking, that was going to be never ending throughout the day and night. Neither man had been exaggerating about the number of times they could go, nor for how long, nor for how little time it took between each round. Steve liked a hard and painful fuck. Bucky’s was… still painful, but he liked to make Tony come or feel good. Another of those little rewards to be chased, even though he knew that chasing it just twisted his desire a little worse than it was before. Looking forward to Barnes fucking him… he knew he shouldn’t. He was being raped. He would never have, off of this island, let Barnes anywhere near his ass. And _ certainly _ never near his mouth. That always came with _ the unbearable. _ At least Steve just fucked his face. 

When Barnes fucked him though, especially if Steve wasn’t paying much attention, it was… _ almost _ good. Not like it had been that day in the shower. Tony fucked that up spectacularly with what he did after. But he wanted Bucky like that again. Bucky had fucked him that time almost like a lover, but that didn’t stop him from joining in the torture. He kept hoping that Bucky would forgive him and fuck him _ like that _ again. Even if it was followed by torture.

Bucky would fuck him when Steve wasn’t there, but Bucky liked to be there when Steve fucked him. His mind games kept Idontgiveafuck present at all times. He never knew the ridiculous name Tony had given that part of himself, but he knew it was there. He addressed Idontgiveafuck directly. Not saying the name he didn’t know, but always referring, in some way, to ‘whoever’s protecting Tony’. Steve played with Tony’s body. Bucky played with Tony’s mind. That too was going to be part of the routine whenever Steve fucked or whipped him.

Tony was laying there on the floor, not having slept the entire night before because he was in too much pain to sleep, organizing his mind to the pattern of things to be endured. But no matter how much he sorted through a day’s tortures, he knew that no matter how consistent that pattern was, there would be time — so far it was in the late afternoon or evening — when the creative occurred. 

Once the day had begun and the routine completed, the creativity began. The creative could not be endured. Only survived.

That day’s creativity was blood. 

Barnes had a small table brought into the hall near where he usually sat to play his mind games. With a slow deliberateness Tony recognized as a B-movie type of hamfisted psychological ‘torture’, he unrolled the leather pouch they were in. He placed each on the table (so beneath you, Manchurian Candidate.)

There were several small flat knives without handles. Throwing knives. Their edges were thin and looked desperately sharp. 

Next came a thicker bladed, large knife, its sheath set next to it. Tony had designed tactical knives, and Barnes’ looked hugely outdated. The blade had no serration, the crossguard wasn’t designed to deflect an incoming attack. The hilt was metal, overly large and had a full round shape. At least it was textured with circular ridges to keep the worst blood slippage down, but the grip wasn’t designed to fit the hand and hold easily when wet or bloody. _ Inefficient. _ The knife irked the engineer in Tony even as he knew that it was going to hurt him. He should be tortured with the best equipment dammit.

The thought amused him until he saw a pair of combat knives he recognized immediately. They were standard issue before Stark stopped making weapons. He tried, but he couldn't keep a small, proud smile off his lips.

Bucky smiled back when he saw Tony recognized them. “You did good work, Tony. When I moved into the compound and started rebuilding my collection, I had a hard time getting these. Men who have these don’t want to part with them since you don’t make them anymore. The new ones by Hammer aren’t as good. The men who owned these two didn’t want to part with theirs either.” He looked directly at Tony. “They were parted.” 

The last thing he took from the pouch was a set of eight long, thin, double edged knives that were little more than sharp blades. Where the hilt would be, there was a tab bent at ninety degrees, just big enough for fingers to hold. Tony puzzled at them. 

“Custom made for a custom purpose.”

_ Oh hello, Winter. _ Tony knew that Bucky was good enough to recognize the subtle difference between his voice and the others’ voices. But the accent and flat tone made it easy for anyone to tell when Winter fully arrived on the scene. Steve peered around Tony’s side and arched his eyebrow. Winter smirked back at him. “Have your fun, Steve. I’ll have mine.” He picked up the round-hilted combat knife and flipped it in his hand a few times. It had looked inefficient on the table, but it was perfectly balanced for the complicated maneuvers Winter put it through. 

“That’s impressive, when it’s not coming at you,” Steve said with a laugh. 

“You’re lucky Bucky recognized you, even before he knew he did. You would _ not _ have gotten away.”

“Oh, I know,” Steve said, flattering Winter before leaning back behind Tony again.

Every time Steve hit him hurt, of course, but blows to his back were easiest to take. His ass, second easiest. A crop hit to the back of his thighs made Tony’s screams loud and entirely genuine every time.

Except that time. 

He was too focused on Bucky’s hands as Winter played with his knives. Tony found out, first, what one of the custom knives did. Winter slid the long thin blade precisely underneath the skin on top of his thigh. He ran its length vertically, skirting between skin and muscle, separating the tissues. The bend at the end of the blade held it in place. When Steve next hit the back of Tony’s thighs and his muscles automatically tensed, his scream was louder than before. A second blade was slipped in on the inside of his thigh. The arrangement was matched on Tony’s other leg.

Steve noticed what Winter had done and switched to a rubber flogger with thin stinging strands. It wouldn’t break bone, so he hit with the full force of his swing. Tony’s body tensed so hard the knives moved beneath his skin and divided more of his skin from the muscle beneath it. When his head lolled down from the pain, he saw blood pour from the bottom of each wound and run down his legs. His eyes went wide.

“Don’t worry, Tony,” Bucky said as he stroked his hand gently down his side. “You can’t bleed out from those wounds. Even as you move and widen the cut, there’s nothing in the blade’s path you can’t survive.” 

The slide from Winter to Bucky and back whenever either was needed was as seamless as his own slide between the ones who protected him. 

“Please Bucky,” Tony begged, his voice barely a whisper.

“Whoever you have protecting Tony knows what it’s like to get fucked the way Steve likes.” Bucky picked up the old combat knife and Winter flipped it as Bucky spoke. “Tony knows what it’s like to get fucked the way I like,” Bucky said just as quietly. “It’s only fair that I let Winter fuck you the way he likes.”

Winter reached between Tony’s legs and shoved the hilt of the knife up Tony’s ass all the way to its inefficient (for fighting, but perfectly efficient for keeping the blade from going up further into someone’s hole) crossguard. Tony screamed.

** _Abandon hope… and all that jazz._ **

“Sorry!” Steve accidentally landed a blow across Bucky’s knuckles, not expecting to find his hand below Tony’s ass.

Bucky didn’t react to what had to have hurt. Instead he put the sheath on the knife so he could hold it better to fuck Tony with. “Work his back and his arms for a while. That’s a good choice for a flogger,” he said, commending Steve’s choice of the rubber whip. “Snap it fast enough, hit hard enough, and it will split skin,” Winter suggested. “It’ll shred the whip to pieces, but it’ll last long enough for the desired effect.”

Winter took the knife in his metal hand and shoved the hilt in as deep as it could go. It wasn’t anything near as big as one of the men’s cocks or the rubber dildo. But when he began fucking in and out with it, the circular ridges dragged and felt like they were tearing him with each thrust. 

Until Winter had just suggested it, Steve hadn’t considered Tony’s arms as a place to cause pain. The flogger curled around his upper arm and the ends of the thongs snapped and blistered the underside. More blows and the blood blisters broke. Tony felt blood running down his arm and side. But mostly he felt the fast, hard drag of the knife hilt inside him.

Tony’s eyes were closed when the first cut came. They flew open and he watched Winter finish slicing down his abdomen from the bottom of his ribs, almost to his groin with one of the throwing knives. The cut was shallow, only skin deep, but the length of it caused it to spread and bleed heavily. A matching cut was made on the other side.

“Please, oh god please. I know you won’t kill me, but… _ Please Bucky!” _

“Please what, faggot?” Steve spat out with disgust as he snapped the whip again.

Tony ignored Steve entirely as he watched Winter assess his canvas while his other hand kept the knife hilt moving. Two of the long knives like were in his thighs were slipped into either of his abdominal cuts. Their tips poked out of the skin about three inches from their entry point.

Tony screamed. “Bucky, please please _ please _don’t let him do this!” If Steve had any comments or complaints about the way Tony was speaking, he didn’t hear them.

The seventh long knife sliced underneath Tony’s skin going up the midline of his lower chest, stopping when the tip of the blade hit the metal of the arc reactor housing.

“Oh god! You’re gonna… please!" Tony's screams were frantic. "You don’t know how it’s put inside of me!”

Winter smirked. “Of course I do. I saw the x-rays in your medical file. I had to know how much pain your body can take.” He let go of the knife he was fucking Tony with. It hung there, still inside him. Barnes stood and the eighth knife went down the center of Tony’s chest from the top until its tip hit the housing.

“You _ don’t _ know!” Tony shouted between screams. “I designed it! I helped Yinsen put that in. I was fuckin’ conscious! Shit! _ Bucky! _ Winter! Goddammit! Oh god please!” Tony had no idea what Steve was doing to him. He was aware of a constant pain on his back, but it couldn’t break through the fear. “You’ll cut it _ out of me!” _

Bucky sat back down on the chair, reached between Tony’s legs with his metal hand and started fucking him with his knife handle again. He wrapped his other hand around Tony’s soft, blood slicked, cock and started stroking him. “The crop, Steve,” Winter said in an absolute monotone. “Hard.” He watched Tony’s face. “Make him jump.” He shoved the knife up Tony’s ass hard. “Try to stay still or _ you _ will cut it out of _ yourself.” _ He stuttered the speed and rhythm of the knife’s thrusts so they were never in sync with the blows Steve landed. 

Tony’s arms were screaming in pain from the whip cuts, but he reached up above his cuffs to the chains that held him in place. He pulled himself into tension and tried to keep as still as possible. It made his back muscles tighten which made the crop cuts hurt worse. Trying to keep his legs still, his feet flat and planted on the floor, made his thighs tense, and the knives in them stung sharply. The cuts on his abdomen bled more. And his ass clenched around the hard metal ridges fucking up into him.

He fixed his eyes down along his body. The knives in his chest, touching the arc reactor, didn’t move.

After Steve landed a dozen crop strokes, the knife hilt was yanked out of him, hard. Tony’s vision was drawn to Barnes’ movement. He set the knife back on the table. Blood slowly oozed from the grooves onto the surface.

Winter walked over and stood in front of Tony. First the top chest knife was removed, then the bottom one. Tony released the tension in his body and hung limply from his chains. “Steve promised you life,” Winter said, setting the blades in their place.

There wasn’t terror to override the pain anymore. Tony screamed. Winter laughed and took one of the Stark Industries knives and started covering Tony’s body with small cuts. Steve stayed with the crop but moved down to Tony’s ass.

Tony had lost his sense of time early on. On the jet it was already going. At some point the men ordered all the clocks in the house taken down, even the one he could’ve seen in the foyer. He had no idea how long Steve and Winter worked him over. He lost track of time, of sense, even of pain. Everything flowed together with the blood that pooled on the floor.

But it must’ve stopped at some point. Tony’s eyes focused and he saw Barnes carefully stitching his cuts.

“Hold still,” Winter chided when Tony’s return to himself caused him to flinch. “They will scar worse if you move.”

Tony had, secretly, had some of the worst of his scars — from life as a superhero, from Afghanistan — diminished by plastic surgery. Each of the wounds Winter stitched looked like those did. He would have scars, but the way Winter was closing the cuts, they would be minimal. The pain from the sutures was insignificant compared to what he’d come down from. The needle was sharp, the thread fine, the antiseptic barely stung. After each wound was closed, Winter covered it with liquid bandage and moved on to the next. Steve had long since gone to bed, the whole house was quiet, there wasn’t a sound except for Winter’s steady breaths and Tony’s occasionally ragged ones.

When Winter closed the last wound on his back, he came around to unfasten Tony from his cuffs. Tony slumped and Bucky caught him. “Don’t try to walk, you can’t. Lean,” Bucky said. Tony draped his arm over his shoulder, and Bucky wrapped his metal arm around Tony’s waist, holding him up.

“Thank you Bucky,” Tony said as he was helped into the bedroom. A thick duvet had been folded on the floor next to Barnes’ side of the bed. He was carefully lowered down onto it. His arms and legs were still not working from having been bound so long. The man positioned him onto the side with the lightest damage. He put a pillow under Tony’s head then left the room. 

Tony was still awake when Barnes came back, much later, holding his knife roll. He put it in a drawer and went to bed. 

Barnes rolled onto his side, looking down at Tony. “Now you know a _ very _little bit of how Winter fucks,” Bucky said quietly. “He hardly ever had the restriction of ‘life’ put on him.” There was a long pause. Tony thought Bucky might’ve fallen asleep. “I remember every time,” Bucky added before he rolled over to face Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> When you've hit the bottom of the story, you might want to read the comments. I have a tendency to ramble and give a bunch of background and some little teases at what's coming. Plus, my commenters are all wonderful 😁
> 
> * * *
> 
> Invisiblebike asked me what day everything's happening on. And I suddenly realized that's super important because certain future things are fixed to specific dates! I had no idea about timelines because I was just gonna torture Tony until I ran out of kinks 😈 But there is an end-date to his torture and a fixed date of future events. So he gets a reprieve. There's a bit of a tease for future events in the titles.
> 
> * * *
> 
> 1 Contempt - Penthouse Day 1  
2 The Man He Hated Most - Penthouse Day 2  
3 Heads or Tails - Penthouse Day 2  
4 Wash Away The Night - Penthouse Day 3  
5 Two Weeks - Penthouse Day - Penthouse Day 14  
6 Heroes Have Feet Of Clay - Penthouse Day 14  
7 Whoeverthefuck - Airplane Day 15  
8 Howard Taught You - Airplane Day 15  
9 The Winter Soldier - Airplane Day 15  
10 Your Princess Is Safe - Airplane Day 15  
11 Idontgiveafuck - Airplane Day 15  
12 Líng Hào - Island Day 0  
13 Tony Stark's Box - Island Day 1  
14 Like Dot At Coney Island - Island Day 1  
15 An Obscene Biblical Story - Island Day 1  

> 
> **(And here's where the author MESSED UP the timeline! The part from where the anchor bolts are put in should’ve been part of the previous chapter should've taken place on the start of Day 2 and not the end of Day 1 dammit!)**  

> 
> 16 How To Hurt Him - Island Day 2 & 3  
17 Steve Doesn't Know - Island Day 4  
18 Less Than Straight - Island Day 4  
19 Taken For A Ride - Island Day 5  
20 Endure - Island Day 6  
21 The Only Way You'll Feel His Dick - Island Day 7  
22 Fag Pussy - Island Day 7 & 8  
23 What The Actual Fuck!? - Island Day 8  
24 Antoinette - Island Day 8  
25 Mornings In The Pool - Island Day 9  
26 Suck My Cock, Tony - Island Day 9  
27 A Bonus - Island Day 9  
28 Emptiness - Island Day 10  
29 Sweden Syndrome - New York/Island - Day 10  
30 Inadvisable - New York/Airplane - Day 10 & 11  
31 Princess - Island Day 12  
32 It’s Not Tony - Island Day 12  
33 To Protect You - Island Day 13  
34 Untitled - Island Day 13 & 14  
35 Untitled - Island Day 14  
36 Untitled - Airplane Day 15  
37 Solid Food - Home Day 16  
38 How Many Alters? - Home Day 16  
39 It’s Gonna Fuck You Up - Home Day 16  
40 Untitled - Home  
41 Untitled - Home  
42 Untitled - Home  
43 PnP - Home  
44 Untitled - Home  
45 Untitled - Home  
46 You Gave Me Moments - Island  
47 Untitled - Island  
48 Atonement - Island & Home  
The Sequel/Coda ?
> 
> The untitled ones are ones where I know what's gonna happen but I haven't written anything on them. The named ones after 'Inadvisable' are only partially written. After 'Home Day 16' there'll be time jumps to hit the important parts of healing while not getting bogged down in the boring 'day X I lay there in a cast and didn't do anything' stuff. I'd kinda like to do a short sequel. Depends on how much I can cover in 'Atonement'.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Story timelines are fuzzy. It's all post-Civil War and post-Homecoming. But the events were slightly different in that the 'Rogue Avengers' will be welcomed back into the fold after Civil War for ~reasons~.
> 
> Some time has passed after that. I'd say the story happens around the _time_ Infinity War happens. Tony is 48 and Peter is 17 [the age of consent in New York.] But that's where this 'verse branches off into the multiverse. There's no Infinity War or Endgame at all.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Please, please, _please_ \- if you think you recognize my writing style, don't rat me out. I have some good friends on here that might not understand that my mind twists this way _in fiction._
> 
> * * *
> 
> Yeah, I started a [LeCoeurCommeUnArtichaud](https://lecoeurcommeunartichaud.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. If you want to drop me a message 📭 head over there. ❤️ Hate, as always, will be deleted. The only way to kill an anti is to starve them of the attention they desire.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you've ever wondered... My name comes from a Poppy Z Brite [Billy Martin] quote: 
> 
> “He has ’le coeur comme un artichaud’. Eddy fumbled for her high school French. ‘A heart like an artichoke?’ ’Oui. He has a leaf for everyone, but makes a meal for no one.”


End file.
